How much of a lucky person I ultimately am. How valuable these experiences are even if they were difficult. As I write this and reminisce, tears of emotion and gratitude well up in my eyes. This is material for a book or documentary. It's a different world. It's essentially one vast tropical forest with clearings for peculiar towns, unlike those in Europe. I have to restrain myself from elaborating too much. The most interesting and valuable thing I saw there were seemingly poor people having exactly nothing at all living in a poor village in wooden boxes—just a few boards nailed together. Yet, in a certain aspect, they were richer than millionaires and successful people we admire on magazine covers. They lived in the moment, happy and healthy, and the greatest value was living together in a large family, with a baby alongside its great-grandfather. These people were so natural, so sincere. It wasn't a show for tourists. I was treated like one of them, like part of the family and their regular life at that time. There were spontaneous ceremonies, joy from music, drumming, dancing, singing, and just being together. However, my healing process wasn't at all what I expected. I spoke with many people whom this plant simply cured overnight, putting them in a state of happiness. I expected that the next day I would be able to turn on the camera and present myself to the world as a host of an internet travel show, an amazing singer greater than Freddie Mercury, that it would happen as if by pressing another magical button. Instead, I found myself in immense suffering. I experienced the worst moments of my depression again, where I was simply detached from any hope and sense of control over my mind. I felt helpless, that nothing could help me anymore. There was so much negativity within me. Everything bothered me: the temperature, mosquitoes, ants, the crooked floor, the uncomfortable bed, the music. At one point, I even unloaded my frustration on my translator, who had been so wonderful and supportive to me (the next day, when it passed, I apologized to everyone, obviously).
And I cried a lot out of this sense of hopelessness, whereas before, I couldn't shed a tear for years to release even a bit of the frozen sadness within me. I longed to be with my family, my mom, and grandma, because I realized that they are my greatest assets in my life. But these states passed, and I felt better. I ended up in these states to finally confront them. I didn't have access to my fear, frustration, anger, and sense of hopelessness, not even knowing it was within me for so long, remaining “comfortably numb” as in the Pink Floyd song. It was partially released from me in this way. It didn't completely heal me, but it healed so much within me, and I am so grateful for that. But It was rather a difficult experience.
When I was back in Europe and landed in Prague, I already felt much better. The weather seemed beautiful, spring-like, and the city was charming. I spent two nights in an Airbnb and felt such relief finally sleeping in a comfortable bed. On my way home, I stopped by a friend's farm, and despite being disappointed with those people, I admired the beauty of the house and the surroundings so much.
I am in my hometown where I grew up, the place I've tried to escape from so many times, starting over from scratch each time, yet it draws me back like a magnet. Four months ago, I was feeling frustrated, on the brink of a nervous breakdown and depression. I didn't succeed, didn't find a job, only built my bunker halfway, and sold the solar system at a loss. My grandmother is now weaker and sicker than four months ago. She's been diagnosed with heart arrhythmia, has had two heart attacks, lives in pain in her legs and spine, and still worries about my future. But my birthday and Easter together were beautiful. My mom and grandma are wonderful women with big hearts. My mom works full-time, sometimes visiting my grandmother when she can. My grandma is alone most of the time. She's the most amazing person in my life. In our 36 years of friendship, I've never seen a shadow of negativity in her. She loved her flawed alcoholic husband who cheated on her and was drunk every day. She never condemned me even when I was lost in my life, almost leaving no hope that I could change anything. She gave me so much support in the hardest times, and without it, it would have been over long ago. I walk around this town and see sharper, think sharper, have more energy and motivation even if carrying hard emotions inside. I am stronger. I feel both immense sadness and immense gratitude for every experience, both the hardest and the most beautiful. I am grateful and thinking optimistically even if my way to happiness must be still difficult and long. I'm not sure what I'll do next, but I will do my best trying to not complain, not focusing on dark sides but looking on the brights.