I’m sitting in a hotel room here in Taiwan on a family vacation. I should feel lighthearted and cheery, we are on holiday after all, and many would leap at the opportunity. In some ways I am. I tease and poke fun at my brother all in good humour, I accompany the rest of the family going out, I’m enjoying the cheap and delicious food, only purging twice in five days (it could be worse…), there are times when I laugh and joke with the family, I make all the right moves, or try to anyway. Yet something doesn’t feel quite right.
Maybe it’s that I feel as though I don’t deserve a holiday, when I’ve failed so tremendously this year. Maybe it’s that there’s too much going on, too much to think about, to really enjoy the holiday. Maybe it’s because the depression is lurking within me, you can run away from your problems but you can’t run away from yourself. Maybe it’s too much time spent with the family, especially my father, and feeling disconnected from everyone else. Maybe it’s because I’ve pinned too much on this holiday, and the expectations were greater than the reality. Maybe it’s because less than two weeks spent overseas means I don’t see my psychologist for a month, and miss out on spending time with my friends while they are on their Uni break. Maybe I’m afraid of being too happy because I know the moment won’t last. Maybe it’s that being on holiday requires too much energy, energy which right now I do not possess. Maybe I’m afraid that all this food consumed while on holiday is contributing to my increasing body weight. Maybe I’m just being a moody, ungrateful, spoilt teenager.
And maybe it’s all of the above.