failing (and other things i’m not doing)

friday, april 28th

so I’ve moved back home and I’m trying really hard to look at the bright side – free rent, familiar faces, the freedom of time. but it’s hard, because being here at all, it feels like a failure. it’s like all the progress, everything I’ve done in the past 2 years was for nothing, because I’m back where I started.

the suburbs are melting my brain, sucking my motivation, molding me into the mundane I once was.

Thinking back to 2 months ago, when I was suddenly having to make a decision between staying in BC though I had nowhere to live, or going home, it felt like the actual end of the world. Realistically, I could have easily found a place in somewhere and got on with it, but I chose to go home. I got on that plane in Vancouver filled with a sense of dread that I couldn’t shake. For once, I wasn’t excited to be returning to my family, and I didn’t know why. I just felt like I was making the wrong move.

I was afraid that I’d go home and get stuck there, fall into some kind of black hole and become the sad sack I had been 2 years before. I couldn’t stop feeling like if I just never moved back, I’d be OK. That it was the place that made me that way, not my brain. BC was my home, I didn’t want to abandon it just as I was getting comfortable.

Fast forward to now, I can see that being here wasn’t as life-ruining as I thought it would be. Yeah, I spent the first couple of weeks complaining about the suburbs, and the weather, and the people and everything, but I’ve genuinely had a great time. I’ve been surrounded by love and have had so much time to work on myself. I’ve been doing yoga, going for long walks, laying out in the sun, reading for the first time in a while, and appreciating the place I am in. I even went for a few bike rides, which has been something I though I hated since I was probably 10 years old. The dread in my heart has been replaced with a sense of peace that I haven’t felt in quite some time. It was all my mindset, duh. This place is still home, after all.

Basically, I’m leaving on Friday and I almost don’t want to. But it’s time for a new adventure (plus I haven’t worked in like 3 months and I’m supposed to be an adult). Onwards and upwards!!!!!

Xo, Rachel

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hiraeth

a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was

Every place I’ve ever been wasn’t mine

Because I didn’t make it so

I’m fleeting 

Before I even catch my breath

I’m leaving

Before I can be left

I only pull closer

The things that want to stray

I only remember

What wouldn’t stay

I can’t feel okay

Until someone’s walking away

Xo, Rachel

healing

do not let sadness grow
big enough to wrap yourself in it
instead wrap yourself in happiness,
wrap it around you so tight
that the sadness lingering near your chest
suffocates

that is the only way to survive

heal your hurt
though it hurts to heal
because
a hurt unhealed
is a hurt you’ll continue
to feel

the sting of the alcohol
is far less than
the sting of the fall

I promise

Photo credit to my friend Nicole (who also redesigned my blog recently)!

Xo, Rachel

The 5 Year Plan

In 5 years
all I want
is a place
to call home
and someone who
will be there
by my side
for that adventure

I don’t care
about hourly wage
or corporate climbing
I just want
to be making
something worthwhile or
doing something positive
in any way

In 5 years
I only hope
to be looking
5 years ahead
with hopeful eyes
and no plan
no plan
at all


Xo, Rachel

road trips

I like to consider myself a semi-professional when it comes to packing after spending the last 2ish years doing almost nothing but, so here are some words of stupidity from someone who still sucks at packing!


So, you’re going on a road trip? Been there. The prep is crucial to the whole experience, yeah? Sure. I recently got rid of nearly everything I owned except what I thought I would need living out of a car for 3 or so weeks, not even knowing where exactly I was going to be visiting. Turns out that BC is still pretty cold mid-March and maybe I shouldn’t have gotten rid of all my winter clothes. Live and learn.

What you’ll pack:

  • Healthy food so you can cook all your meals at hostels to save money
  • Instruments to play out of the back of your car at some picturesque lookout
  • Fancy camera to capture all the beautiful moments you’ll have
  • Books! You’ll have so much time to read!
  • Camping equipment
  • French press, duh
  • Clothes that don’t suit the season you’re travelling to
  • Cute decorations for the car
  • Emotional baggage
  • Soap that you’ll leave somewhere but replace with something from a free bin at a hostel
  • Multiple hat options
  • Yoga mats, for doing yoga…
  • Laundry detergent?

What you’ll actually need:

  • Clif bars, because you can’t be bothered to cook
  • Hair elastics!
  • A freaking coat
  • A water bottle
  • Podcasts to listen to
  • An aux cord
  • A map?
  • A plan?
  • Comfortable clothes
  • Cash
  • A charger for the fancy camera you brought
  • Hand sanitizer
  • Wifi to find the vegan options near you
  • Hand cream
  • All that car stuff that you are supposed to always have
  • Good spirits

But really though, if you cook your own food on road trips, please teach me how to be like you. I can’t do another 3 weeks of McDonalds and junk food from various gas stations. I really can’t. I’m just saying, those vagabonds I follow on Instagram must have some real talent because all the road trips I’ve been on have been dirty and unorganized and sleep-deprived. None of that string-lights-hung-above-a-cozy-bed-in-the-trunk, coffee-made-in-tin-mugs-over-a-campfire, writing-poetry-in-the-passenger-seat shit. We had fun, though. It just wasn’t pretty.

Xo, Rachel

trying again

It’s mental health awareness week, so here is a journal entry/poem that I wrote a couple months ago about the sand in my shoes holding me down, the knot in my stomach that keeps me in bed, the ache in my chest that pushes people away etc etc. It doesn’t always feel this bad, but like, sometimes it does.

there is a pain that I have yet to figure out how to mend.

at times it feels like loneliness, when I’m with people who love me.

at times it’s the illusion that I’m empty, when I’m doing things that fulfil me.

other times it’s a hunger for nothing specific.

no matter which form the pain takes, it is always present.

it always makes me feel like something is missing, but I’ll never know what that is.

i’ll only find a million pieces to a whole other puzzle.

— trying to cure depression with orange juice straight from the carton (march 2017)


Xo, Rachel