I’m Not Starting Over. I’m Starting From Here.

I must say that coming home after almost a month away has felt a little strange.

Part of me wasn’t ready to leave. But then part of me was more than ready to come home.

There were certain things I missed—my room, my routines, my dog. I missed the little things that are just part of my everyday life. I’m used to having my own space and my own routine, and spending that much time around other people can be overwhelming and draining for me.

So, yes, I was ready to come home.

But I also wasn’t ready for the trip to be over.

I had been thinking about this trip for months. I was excited to be in Europe with friends and to experience places I had never been before, but I was also nervous. There were so many unknowns. I wondered what it would be like to be away from home for that long. I wondered how I would handle the flights, the airports, the unfamiliar places, being around people for so many days, and everything else that came with it.

And then I did it.

I made it through the flights and airports. I made it to Romania. I went to a wedding, spent time with people I care about, explored new places, and experienced things I had never experienced before. Then I went to Italy, which was everything I hoped it would be and more. I ate incredible food, saw beautiful places, laughed a lot, got completely exhausted, became overstimulated, needed breaks, and had moments where I wished I could just freeze time.

It wasn’t perfect, though.

There were a couple of arguments with a friend that I’m not particularly proud of. There were moments where I took things too far, and so did she. I went for the gut. I said things I wish I could take back.

That’s something I’ve been thinking about since coming home.

My RSD can make me react strongly when words, tones, or gestures feel slightly off. Sometimes I snap before I’ve had a chance to really process what happened. And anger is something I know I need to work on more.

I don’t say that as an excuse. I know I’m responsible for how I react, even when I understand why I reacted that way.

And I think that’s something I’m still learning.

Maybe that’s part of what this trip taught me about myself. I can have an incredible experience and still have moments where I don’t handle things the way I wish I had. I can learn something about myself without suddenly having everything figured out.

Because I definitely don’t have everything figured out.

I still have those moments where I feel behind. I compare my life to other people’s lives. I wonder why certain things haven’t happened for me yet. I wonder why I don’t have everything figured out by now.

Those thoughts still creep in.

Coming home, I expected to pick up where I left off. I came back to my routine, my writing, the things I had left behind, and all the little things waiting for me.

But I don’t think we ever really go back to where we left off.

I think we bring everything with us.

We bring the experiences. The conversations. The realizations. The surprises. The things that didn’t go the way we expected. The things that challenged us. The things that made us happy.

And hopefully, we bring a little more understanding of ourselves, too.

That’s what I keep thinking about when I say I’m not starting over.

I don’t necessarily want to start over or anything. I just want to start from where I’m at right now.

From the life I already have.

From the person I’ve spent the last few years becoming.

My diagnoses didn’t give me a completely new life. They gave me a new way of understanding the life I already lived. I can look back at certain things now and have more compassion for myself. I understand things about myself that I didn’t understand before.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t still things I want.

There are.

There are things I want to change. Things I want to work on. Things I still don’t know. There are questions I don’t have answers to yet, and there are times when I still wonder if I’m doing enough or if I’m where I’m supposed to be.

But I don’t think that means I’m starting from nothing.

I’m starting with everything I’ve already experienced.

I’m starting with what I know about myself now.

I’m starting with the things that make me happy, the things I’ve learned I need, and the things I’m finally giving myself permission to want.

And maybe that’s what this next season of my life is about.

Not completely changing everything.

Not trying to become some completely different version of myself.

Just continuing from here.

Coming home didn’t make me want to throw my life away and start over. If anything, it made me appreciate a lot of what I already have. My room. My routines. My writing. My dog. The people I love. The little things that make my everyday life feel like mine.

But it also reminded me that there’s still so much I want to experience.

I want to keep traveling. I want to keep writing. I want to keep learning things about myself. I want to try things that scare me a little. I want to see what happens when I stop assuming that I should already know exactly where my life is going.

I don’t need to have the next five years figured out.

I don’t even know if I want to.

For now, I just want to keep going and see where life takes me.

I’m not starting over.

I’m starting from here.

What are you carrying with you into this next season of your life?

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”— Søren Kierkegaard