Saturday morning.

Woke up early from a bad dream. I can’t remember it, as per usual. I either don’t remember or have a very intense, dark nightmare. I wake up angry and frustrated so often. I can’t get rid of the anger. I don’t know how to filter it out.

I went up to the rooftop for a nice yin yoga session. Had a coffee and a cigarette. Meditated. Thought to myself, “Stop thinking about what you’ll do if everything goes wrong and start thinking about what you’ll do if everything goes right.”

Tennis lessons. Horse races. Junk boat parties. Quiz nights. Stand-up comedy. Shopping sprees. Weekend trips to Japan and the Mainland. My very own Birkin bag.

Okay, so it might actually turn out to be a Chirkin, and I’ll probably be flying on a budget airline and sleeping in one of those weird little capsule pods, but you know… whatever.

My meditation colors today were orange and yellow. Finding my center of balance by embracing my creativity energy. Love it. This has been the recurring theme in my journey this year.

It was a good session. I felt safe in my body again and found some clarity of mind. Peaceful vibes. I feel much calmer now than when I woke up. Now I just want to eat some French Toast and stay in bed all day watching Wong Kar Wai films.

I’m clearly a little biased because I’m American, but my personal favourite is My Blueberry Nights. It’s one of those movies that inspired me to set out on my journey. I really identify with the main character, aka Norah Jones. It feels like it would be good inspiration right about now.

Just staying positive for now. Sitting here enjoying the feeling of being safe in my own body. I was thinking about South Dakota again. Everything there was so different. So hostile. I always felt like I was just waiting for the next attack to happen. They were so vicious. It’s not normal.

Here it’s like… I’m totally anonymous. No one knows or cares who I am. I can wander around and eavesdrop on conversations and watch people. No one notices. No one cares. I meet random people all the time who have interesting stories to tell and interesting things to say. I love it. It’s a vibe. I love not being “Betsey Horton.” Like the night I spent with The Russian. I could just be Liz. Most of the time, I just want to be Liz.

This is going to sound strange to say, but it’s weird feeling safe all the time? Like what do you mean I don’t have to worry about any of that anymore? My system doesn’t know how to react to the shock.

It’s like… yeah. South Dakota was pretty bad. I experienced so much violence and trauma towards my body, mind, and soul there. Literally just non-stop attacks from every angle. I knew it messed me up, but I’m looking back on it now after having lived abroad in Asia for a year and I’m thinking to myself, “No wait, actually, that was really, really, really fucked up.”

Rest and recovery = crucial. It’s good that I’ve had a long rest period, though I would hardly call navigating the everyday challenges associated with life in Hong Kong to be “restful.” I think Bangkok was probably more of a “restful” situation. Bali was so beautiful but Yoga Teacher Training courses are crazy intense and basically force you to sit with all of your bad feelings until you find peace.

All of this being said, I would go back to India for a 300hr YTTC in Rishikesh. I guess if Hong Kong doesn’t work out, I can just go do that. Oh, except for the part where July is the absolute worst time to travel to India. So, that’s off the list… for now.

Funny how the hand of fortune deals its cards. We’ll just wait and see what happens, I guess. Hopefully… Magic, lol. Otherwise… I’m fucked.

For now, I think the metaphor of being a woolly mammoth thawing out of an ice block feels apt. It’s like I was just frozen in time out in South Dakota, forced to relive the same hellish situations over and over and over again. Now I’m not there reliving it anymore and it’s like… okay. I’m safe. I’m calm. I’m cool. I can do this.

So what? I don’t know. Get a career and make money and generally be boring and live a normal life? Sure, I would love to be a writer, but it feels like I don’t know how to be professional about it. It feels like all I know how to do is dump my trauma out all over the place. I want to find my own identity outside of all of that.

I just want something else to bring in money for awhile. Something I don’t have to think much about. I don’t know. Clearly “Crunchy Hippie Vegan Yoga Teacher” is not the correct path for me. So what is the correct path for me? I don’t know. I just follow it wherever it goes…

For now, the path is leading me to drop off my laundry and then go out for brunch. I admit that I get really tired of eating alone all the time. It’s nice when there are other people there. They just come and go so often, you know? The life of an expat is very transient. One day someone is there, the next they are gone. Another new person appears in their place, then they disappear again. So on and so forth. Friends come and go, men come and go, randoms come and go. The only thing that stays forever is the story.

Well, I may not be emotionally fulfilled, but I can be physically fulfilled by eating a succulent Chinese meal, so that’s what I’m going to go do today.

Have a good one!