THE SOLITARY PANDA

Trials of a Nomad

I feel depressed and low energy. I don’t know if its the shitty food I’ve been eating lately or what. I try not to eat much. But it’s all meat. All the time. And more and more fast food. With ice cream. The diet I’d like to leave behind. When I come back to my family I come back to this… And thus why it’s important to live an intentional life with your own place and your own set-up to cook your own food. I crave fruit. And vegetables. And light foods. And I need to take control.

I’ve never been a cook. And I haven’t had my own place for over a year. When I live on my own (but not entirely on my own because I’ve always had a boyfriend or roommates), I prefer snacking throughout the day, drinking fruit smoothies for meals, and carrots and sushi for snacks, so I never see how cooking meals for one person makes much sense. And I eat out a lot…

I have a secret about my nomad life style. I don’t always like it. In fact. Most times I don’t. I think I tend to romanticize “homeless nomad” and “professional hobo” a lot. As though it were this fun thing that makes my life so much more exciting. It certainly keeps me on my toes. That’s a good thing. The not so good thing is that I’m tired. I’m tired of having to walk around not knowing whose house I’m staying in next and I’m tired of feeling like a freeloader. I’m tired of being out every day in the hustle and bustle of a noisy city full of smog, overstimulation, and not getting the isolation time that an introvert truly needs.

I’m tired.

As I live this bizarre life, I have to laugh at how life once was. The complete opposite. A stable job. A long-term relationship. And a house with mortgage. That house imprisoned me and that job sucked my soul and now the other extreme of the spectrum just wears me out, too. I feel useless often. Especially without my laptop. Without work… I don’t have time to regenerate, and if I do, it costs at least $10 for a hotel room for 6 hours.

That’s my life.

What I need is my own place to rent. It doesn’t need to be much. I’m a nomad so I’m thinking crash pad more than condo. I can’t really afford a condo, let alone justify the price for the on-the-go lifestyle I lead. As long as I have some cushion to sleep on the floor, and an internet connection, I’m good to go. What I need is time to be who I am. Which is a traveling homebody. I know its an oxymoron. An adventurous homebody? Yes, really. I prefer spending weeks in my place without socializing much. It’s easy. But it’s also counterproductive. Back then in my “stable life”? I had no friends, and always stayed at home. That’s depressing too. Even for a huge introvert. My ideal would be a mixture of both. So that I could have a social life but rest and regenerate in between.

I’m resting now in Cebu. For two weeks I’ve been back with family. I come here specifically to regenerate because I know the Cebu life with my family is always the same. We don’t go anywhere and life is small. Occasionally, I go across the street to visit my first childhood friend whose married and has kids now and we have nothing really in common and nothing much to talk about but I go anyway. Just to be there. Just to check in. I’m working on a new blog project which I hope I’ll have the internet connection to fully concentrate on in the next coming months, but stability is uncertain. Life is always uncertain and when you live a lifestyle of uncertainty, instead of the fake “stability” you get with a house, husband and kids, it can be extra jarring, but also humbling and beautiful. I count my blessings more.

This life–my life NOW–is teaching me how to be social and I’m not even taking its bait. I’m retreating and getting cranky and feeling self-defeatist and emotionally eating and growing tired. What I need to do is accept the challenge. Find a place. That’s fine. But accept the challenge of a bigger social life and learn to enjoy it. Because this making new friends stint has never been my forte. Because I’m more of a wallflower than a socialite. Because I feel awkward. All. The. Time.

I need to get over it. Making new friends is the only way I’m going to be successful if I want to earn my own living. How can I ever make clients if no one even knows who I am, or what I have to offer? Friends are so passe. It’s hard to find the types of friendships an introvert needs. The friendships that go deeper than a facebook profile and the like button and a few lunch dates here and there. But connections and networking is in. I need to get in… Or get out.