On Depression, Joy & Travel

Posted on

 

On Wednesday I found out that my neighbor, a delightful and seemingly joyful woman, passed away. She always seemed to be a cup-half-full sort of person, so as you might imagine, I was shocked to find out that she suffered deeply from depression and took her own life.

You may be asking how this relates to a travel blog. It may not relate to the typical travel blog, but I’m hardly the typical traveler. My bio doesn’t really get into all the ways that I’m not typical, so let me list a few of them here.


  • I’m old:  I mean, I’m not ancient, but I’m 42. My bio does share this fact, but what makes it unusual is that I don’t exactly fit the typical travel age demographic.  If you look at all the “van life” pictures on social media you may notice that they’re dominated by blonde surfers in their 20’s with great hair.  If you think of the typical person driving around in a RV you may think of retirees wearing mom-jeans.  I’m smack dab in the middle of those two age groups (but I don’t, and never will, wear mom-jeans).
  • I’m Tall:  I’m a 6’2” woman. While nutrition has produced much taller people in America over the last 20 years, seeing a woman of my stature is still unusual.
  • I’m Female:  I’m a solo female traveler, hitting the road with only my trusty canine companion. While I love traveling with friends, I’m perfectly happy alone. I’m pretty sure that concept makes the heads of most of the men I know explode.
  • I’m Gay:  I’m a big ol’ lesbian. While I hope someday this won’t matter, the reality is that it does.  As it is now, there are some States where I don’t have equal rights and where people are free to discriminate against me.
  • I’m Butch:  More than my sexuality, my gender is what throws people off most often. About 90% of the time people mistake me for a man. When those people finally realize their error, the reactions range from confusion to apology to aggression. Apparently, some believe that butch women are intentionally trying to confuse and humiliate people. I’m here to tell you that is not the case. Those people need no help from me to feel humiliated.
  • I Live With Depression:  For most of my life I’ve suffered from depression. Sometimes so severe that the “light at the end of the tunnel” looks to be a mere pin prick. Other times, my depression is so subtle that I’m living in the light and the pin prick is the darkness. Either way, it’s always there with me.

I’m certainly not alone in having these characteristics. There are thousands of people who share one or more of these traits. There may even be someone who shares all of them, although I’m pretty sure they broke the mold when I was born. That said, I still consider myself the no-so-typical traveler and feel that it’s important to be honest about who I am as you follow me on this journey.

Don’t get me wrong. This is a travel blog and will contain travel pictures that I will take as I travel the world, but part of my journey is less literal and more figurative.

On Depression:

When I think about my neighbor’s passing, and how underneath that bright smile there was such sadness, I understand how so many people hide their depression under a mask of joy. There is a certain shame that comes along with feeling depressed. Perhaps you hide it because you don’t want to be a downer, or you have so many joyful things in your life that you “shouldn’t” be depressed, or you feel that you are already such a burden that you don’t want to put more shit on those you love. There are a million reasons to hide depression, and some of those reasons may be why I never knew that my neighbor was suffering.

On Finding Joy:

I’m in a very privileged position, for many reasons. I won’t list them all, but specifically, as it relates to depression, my privilege is that I know what brings me joy. It’s funny because I’ve known this for years, but it just hit me this week when I heard about my neighbor.

Consistently, throughout my life, the one singular thing that has always brought me happiness is traveling. I could say friends, family, my dog, a good job with caring coworkers and a happy home all bring me joy, but they have never pulled me from a depression. It’s not that they wouldn’t try if they knew I was suffering, but I suffer with a smile, so often people don’t know what’s going on beneath the surface.

I remember when I went to Europe in my 20’s. I was deeply depressed. Like I was made of cast iron and the world was slowly sinking. My girlfriend had broken up with me, leaving me in tatters. I had lost myself in that relationship and, as a 23-year-old, didn’t know myself well enough to know how to put myself back together.  I was smoking way too much marijuana, I didn’t have close friends I could call on, and I was stuck.  I knew I needed to get away from my environment, but I had never traveled alone before.

Being afraid was better than being depressed, and planning the trip gave me something to focus my attention on. I left San Francisco in February and spent the first few days of that trip in London. It was cold and gloomy, and I was having horrible nightmares. It felt like the British weather had manifested my depression literally through cold snow flurries and biting wind.  The days wandering the streets and museums felt dreary, and the nights were dark with violent dreams.

I knew this wasn’t what I was looking for, so I hopped on a train and headed south hoping to find sunshine and warmth. I ended up in Florence Italy. I was desperately homesick and overwhelmed. The language, the street signs, the menus, the people. Everything was so challenging to navigate and I just needed things to be easy. Just for a minute. That’s when I got on the phone with my parents.

On Freedom:

I remember that conversation to this day. I was so sad, and lonely, and lost. I just wanted to come home, and my Dad said…“Honey, you can come home whenever you want to. You can come home tomorrow if you’d like.”

It was such a simple statement, but it was in that exact moment that I realized that I was free. I could literally go to the airport right that second, get on a plane, and within 24 hours I would be back in my bed. Of course, I wasn’t going to do that, but I could!

Suddenly, the whole world opened up to me. Every decision became so easy. If I was cold, go somewhere warm. If I didn’t like where I was, leave. If I was hungry, eat something. If someone was being a jerk, walk away. It was honestly an epiphany moment that has carried me through all my many days of travel since.

I finished out my trip in Turkey and remember standing in an old ruin on the beach in Fethiye, thinking to myself, I’ve never been this happy.

Since then I’ve traveled around South America, Thailand, Mexico, Canada, Europe and the US. Each time I’ve entered those trips in a place of emotional depletion, and I’ve returned from those trips recharged. It’s like I’m a battery that gets slowly drained of energy in my day to day life, and travel is my charger.

On This Trip:

I’m not entering this upcoming trip in a depressed place. I feel good about my life right now. I have great friends, loving family, an amazing dog, a home and a good job. Things feel good, and I feel good about myself. I just don’t see any reason to wait any longer. I’ve waited 20 years to take a work break to travel, and now feels like the right time to do it. There’s something empowering about making this choice now. I’m running towards happiness rather than running away from depression.

On Margaret:

I really liked my neighbor Margaret. She and I had a lot of great conversations, and apparently had more in common then I knew. I wish I had been able to offer her support before she took her life, but I know that my contribution may have made no difference to the outcome. More importantly, I wish she knew where to find her joy. It can be hard to find when you’re depressed, even when it’s right in front of you.


National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Call 1-800-273-8255  (Available 24 hours)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *