I get so nostalgic about the fall season in Berlin. It’s my favorite season in general but I really enjoy the season here. When I think about that first fall in my apartment, I remember waking up and putting on my sweatshirt so I could make a coffee. I think about the chilly mornings outside with Russell and the soups I made at home. During fall, I always watch my favorite seasonal movies or episodes of shows. Maybe I’ll post the list at some point.

The fall of 2023 is really special to me when I look back at it in hindsight. I was finally feeling better and felt settled in my space. I was making new friends and exploring different parts of the city. I established a good workout routine, I went across the city to go to my office and I celebrated Halloween and Thanksgiving with expat friends. The summer was brutal both weather wise and for my general state of existence. When the temperatures cooled off, life didn’t feel as heavy as it did months prior. I went to yoga after work and made dinners by myself. I lit candles and took long showers. I went for solo walks on the weekends.

One night, I met a friend for Korean food. It was a nice night because it was one of the first times we had been open with each other. We spent the rest of the night walking through the festival of lights and drinking hot chocolate. I guess I associate this time with what it felt like to get my footing again. I started to view my apartment as a safe haven for Russ and I. I celebrated a full, intense year of living in Germany and was looking forward to many more. I genuinely enjoyed Berlin and felt like I was finding myself again.

Two years later, I feel just the same. I get excited pulling out my coats and sweaters. I try to stay outside longer and look at the changing leaves. I’ve already had many teas and soups. I bought a new candle and hopefully soon, I’ll get a new chair for the apartment to make it even cozier.

I just wish my brother was here for this season, too. We had such a nice fall season when we lived together in California.

It’s been a long time coming, okay!! I finally got my new leather journal and I’ve kept it in its pristine little packaging until I’m ready to organize it. My initial thought was to have my personal journal, a common place journal and then a German learning one in the back. It’s perfect, though. It’s dark green with a red band and a purple leather bookmark. It has three notebooks inside and my last name pressed into the cover in all lowercase (of course). A prompt asked me once if I was stranded on a deserted island what three things I would bring. Without hesitation I answered: my journal, music of some kind and Russell. I love journaling and whether I do it in my private handwritten one or here, it’s something I always come back to.

Anyway, that was the little gift I gave to myself on my trip to Vienna!

I’m finally back home. Since August, it’s felt like I’ve been on a never-ending travel day. Since early August I’ve been to southern Germany, France, the U.S., Austria and then the UK. My brain kind of feels like it’s going to explode but I’m grateful to be home for the next month and a half so I can regroup.

I have quite a lot to say about everywhere I’ve been and the thoughts I’ve been having but I don’t have the capacity at this exact moment to formulate them into any sort of coherent thoughts. For now, I’ll quickly focus on how good of a feeling it is to come home.

When I walked out of the airport, Russell just about jumped out of the window to see me. He climbed up onto the couch and laid next to me (taking my spot). He slept next to me, pushing his back into my legs and inched his way up to my pillow in the morning.

Big exhale~

i need a break

I know I need to be writing on a more consistent basis. . . My brother reminded me of that this morning. It’s cathartic and it makes me a stronger writer.

There are so many things I’m trying to balance right now and yet I’ve felt stuck in a functional freeze state since I got back from the U.S. At least I recognize this so I can work to combat its forces. There’s this low-grade depression that creeps in after an event such as going home that attempts to keep a strong hold on me. At times I’ve let it take me under but now I’m actively working to process the emotions I might have suppressed so I can move on from them.

This past weekend. . .

I felt inspired to tackle some monotonous tasks I’ve been putting off for quite some time. I rounded up all of Russell’s toys and dunked them in the bathtub with antibacterial detergent. I let them soak throughout the day while I washed his blankets and pillows in the same mixture. I took an armful of boxes that needed to be returned and another set of packages of old clothes I’d sold on the internet. I finally took the bag of clothes meant for donation in the back of my closet to a reciprocal.

It’s incredible how good all of those things made me feel. They’ve been sitting there waiting for action on my side and this is how I get myself back into an upward spiral.

I wasn’t feeling great socially but I kept my plans on Saturday night. I met up with a friend and had hummus at the shop down the street from my apartment. Afterwards, he came over and another friend joined to watch the UT vs. Georgia game. By this point, I was in a better social rhythm but nonetheless, I’m still feeling a bit off/rusty and need to recalibrate.

Sunday, I went to Vabali and switched off for a bit. I attempted to sweat out the bad energy I’ve been carrying around with me. I ordered a smoothie and a tea while I read my book. I was so comfortable and content in the lounge area that it resulted in me falling asleep for 15 minutes or so. My mind and body are tired, there’s no doubt about that.

I keep showing up for my runs and workouts. I keep going for walks with Russell and extending them at his desire. I’m eating good foods. I’m sleeping enough. I’m writing in my journal. I’m calling my dad every day.

I’m doing the best I can for now.

As of Friday, I’ll be on vacation for two weeks. Somehow this time of the year has become my annual two weeks off from work, mostly by coincidence. I’ll be leaving next week in a van and heading to the mountains with Russ. I’m bringing my camera with me so I’ll have a visual recap at some point. After spending some time in the mountains, I’ll go to Vienna for a few days. It’s on my wish list to get a new journal at Paper Republic. We’ll see. . .

The upcoming time off is much needed. The temperatures are dropping in Berlin which means we’re transitioning into my favorite time of the year. I can finally wear my sweatshirts and a jacket. Honestly, I’m built for a fall wardrobe. I love sweaters, corduroy, skirts with tights, hoodies, jean jackets, boots, you name it. I want to make soups and watch my favorite fall movies. I love running during this time of year, too.

I could go on and on. Now, I need to run to Ikea to get a new chair and a big ole candle. Maybe I’ll have dinner there too. I’ll report back.

August kind of wiped me out. . . I’ve been fighting to get back to a baseline where I can feel like I’m energized in some way but I’m just not there yet. I had so much stress and traveling last month that it’s been hard for me to get back into a rhythm and not feel like I’m nearing burn out. I think we’re headed in the right direction but unfortunately, it takes energy to move and I have very little to give.

I’m on an eight week running plan as of yesterday and that gives me purpose/structure. Luckily, I started off with an easy run and spent 45 minutes jogging around my neighborhood as the sun was setting. I love where I live and I feel proud to know my neighborhood so well. I don’t need directions or assistance so it makes running aimlessly even more enjoyable.

As I was running, I was listening to Bon Iver to help slow my pace down. He always reminds me of fall and drudges up some fond memories of mine. I’ve been in my head a lot since I got back from the U.S. and I have more to say about that, just not at this exact moment. I haven’t sorted it all out yet. I’ve avoided going home for so long for this exact reason. In summation, it’s just confirming that I don’t feel like I fully belong in either place—a truth I’ve known already but didn’t necessarily want to face. It’s not as binary as that when you get into the details but for the sake of brevity today, it is.

I think my mind is exhausted from talking about my nationality or where I come from or where I live now. When I’m here, we talk about America. When I’m home, we talk about Germany. My life has been somewhat defined by this fact and while I enjoy telling my friends on either side about how the other is, I just feel kind of tired. It’s like having the same conversation I’ve rehearsed in my head. . . but I always end up leaving the conversation with some sort of regret, hoping I didn’t misrepresent something or thinking they caught me on a day where I was feeling frustrated with one of the places and that shouldn’t be the overall impression.

It’s funny because I know I’ve changed since I got on a plane three years ago and came here but it was highlighted when I went home. My priorities have changed in so many ways, in the ways that I wanted them to change. I enjoyed the ease of conversing with people wherever I went and the ability to advocate for myself. I scoffed at high prices of groceries and questioned why everyone chose to drive short distances. I rolled my eyes at paying $10 for a Kölsch at a “German Beer Garden” in DC and thought of the one I could have at my Späti for 2 euros. I asked the bartender to make my bill $12 instead of $10 to which he looked at me like I was insane and told me to add the tip on the tip line which made me feel embarrassed. Of course this is how you tip someone in the U.S. but now it’s a force of habit to add it before like I do in Germany.

I felt mixed up and backwards until someone in line complimented my hat and said “Go Vols.” I felt comfortable and safe sitting in the pod of my dad’s house having a coffee across from him. I rode around with my dad in his jeep and stopped at Publix for meatless subs. I walked around the old neighborhood I used to live in. I looked at the balcony of my old apartment and saw they had a dog, too. I did the loop I used to do with Russell every day on my lunch break. I popped my head into the Irish bar where I used to play Monday beer trivia just to see how it looked after the remodel. I went into Trader Joe’s and grabbed a few snacks. It felt good to be there but also disoriented me how quickly I moved on from that feeling and how ready I was to be back at home, in Germany, in Berlin with Russ.

I’ll go into the details of the trip at a later date but I was constantly moving. I was in a car, on a motorcycle, or on a plane going to the next place. It felt like I saw people in 30 minute slots and had to move on to my next appointment. Will it always feel that way when I go home? It used to when I was in college. For someone who has such strong, nostalgic ties to their past, places and people, I have a strange ability to shut things off in my brain out of self-protection. I can detach myself emotionally from certain things in order to function. This is a subconscious habit and the conscious side of myself clings to these things so I won’t forget. But I never forget. I just pack it in a box, store it on a shelf and visit it when I can.

I’m where I’m supposed to be, of this I’m certain. I just need to give myself some time to feel the things I need to and recalibrate so I can get my energy back.