The Delusional World of Egan

Three weeks. It was the three weeks leading up to my two flights, 20 hours of travelling. During those weeks, everything had changed. Home was no longer that cozy, small, artsy town nestled into a valley, but it wasn’t the media-proclaimed war-torn city I had grown up in either. All my clothes for Asia and Australia were packed the same day that I packed everything into my dad’s trailer. Two weeks before leaving, needles were stabbed into my arm, giving me the sound mind that I wouldn’t die from a rusty nail or a mosquito bite. So I was ready, yes… I was ready two weeks before my flight was set to leave. Still, something was missing. The weight hung on my heart as I explored the 300+ miles of trails around Portland, and the city of parks. Connections I yearned for were 4+ hours away… I knew that this was coming, I knew that I was going to be loving from a distance, but the time felt too far away at the time. Now the grief bubbled in me as denial that I no longer live there and exhaustion of my body, not going constantly anymore.

Parking my car in the driveway, I quickly sifted through my tabs and clicked + to open a new one. There I found an Amtrak ticket from Vancouver, WA, to King Street Station, Seattle. My fingers swiped to a contact I no longer texted work-related questions to, instead, coffee memes and places to visit in London. Tapping on the little phone icon, my phone insisted that it was, in fact, calling her. A voice then spoke through the line, and the conversation continued for a few minutes. Laughter could be heard, and an audible, “Yes, you can come up! I can’t believe all my friends are visiting me at the same time!” Three days later, I was being swept away on giant wheels, carrying thousands of pounds and many people north towards a sound. A sound which gave me some comfort.

Just like every other person who visits Courtney, she was trying to convince Haylee and me to move up there. Honestly tempting. Seattle was a city full of nature, and every person I interacted with was so helpful and didn’t exacerbate my anxiety. From exploring Pike Place, to the Olympic Gardens, to walking WAY too far down the green belt, and a biker yelling, “There’s a sidewalk right there! Right there!” Um… hey girl! The sidewalk had not yet converged with the path from being on another route! And our triumphant trek to the bakery. Then two buses later, and we were thrifting at an old vintage store. There were so many distinct districts that brought me out of my head.

Somehow, even going out and doing karaoke with strangers we met at the bar before left me a bit empty. I had this pit in my stomach of not knowing what to do or where to go. The morning after, I pulled myself up and barely made my way to the most uncomfortable train seat of my life. The stiff, plastic, unmoving seats and the bouncing of the Amtrak car did not help either.

After retrieving the Yen I had ordered a week prior, and scarfing down a bowl of Chipotle! I took the internal drive to central Oregon, only being brought out of my stupor when I had to pee and when the colors of the trees were so vibrant I had no choice but to stop thinking and just enjoy them. Mount Hood feels like another universe, driving over it during early October, like the world just keeps changing, and nature revels in it. The trees know that even when they’re dying, this is not their final rotation around the sun, that time will move with or without them. I like to think that trees know how extraordinary they are, but they have no ego. Just a sense of peace and comfort that their leaves provide food for bugs and nutrients for the earth. I hope that when I end up like a frog, croaked, that the fruits of my labor will continue onward. That my positivity is infectious, that people continue to be starry-eyed, optimistic, and even though the bad can be loud. To remember that joy is far more prevalent and relevant than the negativity in this world.

Three nights have come and gone, and I have spent them with my momma. Walking around her new neighborhood and the local park, I saw a light in her eyes. She feels at home with my stepmom in their new house, surrounded by my childhood dog. The routine of her day-to-day is more intentional and calmer. The cutest little blonde boy was upstairs playing with marbles, aka my nephew. My god, sorry to say it, I have the best nephew! He’s so respectful, fun, adorable, and talented at football (soccer).

Crazily enough, the next day, as I pulled up to the community center in the center of a high desert valley, I got to see my other nephew. Running around screaming, this two-year-old had so much charisma. This being the second time I’m meeting him, he was so confused as to who I was. As all toddlers should be. I’m CRAZY! In a fun way, or best stated by any elementary schooler I interact with, “You’re weird,” with the tone of their voice dipping at the end. And THEM! Yes, I am weird, embrace it.

One week, one week in another country, another continent has lifted that pit. Stress has stopped eating away at me, and anxiety has given in to emotions. Love it or hate it, Inside Out 2 makes a good case for how anxiety requires the most amount of space. It reduces all other emotions and controls my perception of the world. Safe to say, I have laughed, cried good tears, and opened myself to more experiences than if  I had stayed at home.

Smile at a stranger,

Move your body,

Love yourself,

Egan