Why I’m staying
So, since my trip to Italy has been postponed or maybe even cancelled, we’re back to the old layout.
It’s funny. I spent a month preparing for the trip, stressing about it every day, contacting possible hosts, buying stuff I would need (mostly for Einari), learning the language (very slowly!), reading about different cities, writing to people on TravBuddy.. Mentally, I was prepared to leave everything behind, not seeing my friends in months, I even visualized myself living in Italy permanently sometimes. I pictured myself carrying Einari and all my stuff at the airports, the tiny train stations, countryside. I was so happy about meeting new people, reading other people’s experiences from the comment fields on Helpx.net – how they’ve felt like part of the family and spent their evenings having dinner and meeting people from the nearby farms. I wanted it SO BAD.
A week before my flight I was still buying dictionaries and Italian grammar books. Thinking about all the stuff I still have to take care of.
Then I got sick. I went to see the doctor four times before they finally agreed a surgery would be the best way to deal with it and I was admitted to the hospital on the day of our flight. Before this, while I was sick, I wasn’t able to do anything. I had lots to do; not just the packing. Loads of photo editing, painting, getting a few things for the dog from the vet, booking train & bus tickets in advance. And as the days went by without me sleeping practically at all, not eating, just wandering around the apartment in pain, I started to think I wasn’t gonna make it. And along with that, I somehow gave up on everything.
In a way, I got bored with the whole idea. How is that even possible? I’ve never been to Italy, how could I be bored with it before I even went? I don’t think I was scared, absolutely not. All this time I had been just excited, wanting everything to change, everything to be new. I was sooo very bored of Helsinki and everything that’s going on here, and of course the thought of yet another extremely cold winter. The worst thing about Finland and life in general. I wrote about this all some time ago. I was so ready to go.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot, cause I’m not really sure myself what happened and why I didn’t just book the next possible flight. It would’ve been easy. I just didn’t do that. I’ve come up with a few possible reasons.
First of all, when I decided to buy the flights, I was depressed. Me and M had just decided we’re going to break up. We aren’t fighting, we’re still living under the same roof, we still like each other’s company. So I didn’t have any idea of where to go, where to live and what to do with my life. So in a way, this would’ve been the perfect moment to go when I have nothing to keep me here. I just wanted to get away and change everything. The old cliché of finding myself. I knew I wouldn’t magically turn into this happy, succesful and healthy person if I surrounded myself with new things and people, but somehow I liked the idea of shocking myself into at least trying to change everything. Like building a house by tearing the old one down to the ground. Not just decorating it in a different way. And since I am a bit of a drama queen in a way (not in a way of creating drama between me and other people, but just making my life less boring) it seemed like an awesome thing to do.
Second, I started thinking about doing things a bit differently. I suddenly realized I could now afford to buy a new camera cause I’d been saving everything for the trip. And then it hit me: why not buy the camera first, get more assignments, then save up money for a longer trip to somewhere new. If I left first, it would take me forever to get it. I probably couldn’t get any jobs in Italy and so I’d have to come back here at some point anyway, get the new apartment, work hard, and still it would take me months and months to get enough money to buy the camera, let alone anything else than the basic things I need in life.
And now, looking back at the moment I was booking my one-way flight, I can see a sad person doing a half-desperate thing when she couldn’t think of anything else to do.
But I’m not that sad anymore. I’m ok. I think I could even live through the winter – or at least one month of it. I think I can get good jobs and an apartment. I think I’ll be ok. I am hating myself just a little bit for not leaving (I’m also a bit embarrassed for telling everyone and making such a big number out of it), but on the other hand I’m thanking myself for not going when it seems leaving would’ve not been the wisest thing to do right now.
I’m also thanking my disease for not attacking me a week later when I would’ve been in the Italy countryside already..
So, that’s about it. It’s been a rollercoaster, this last month. But I think the worst of it is now over.
PS: I already started looking up farms and hosts in Ireland. And some photo schools and workshops. But I promise I’m not gonna change the blog layout to something Irish just yet… haha.








