Travelin'

...Or Not

September 20th, 2018


A lot of people have asked if I would be doing a travel blog while on my journey across the, well, wherever the fuck I am going, so here it is…

It’s September 20th, 2018, and I’m still in this godforsaken city. I don’t mean that in the way that it comes across, I am just ready to get the hell out of here for a little bit. My original plan was to leave early yesterday morning, but I received a text from my friend in Wyoming (my first stop of my tour), that sewage was leaking not only into her guest bathroom, but her bathroom as well, and that it smells rather shitty. (Pun fully intended.) She asked if it was possible to prolong my trip by maybe a week so that her landlord could get everything fixed up, and I figured at this point, why the hell not? I’ve waiting this long anyway.

I’m still here in St. Louis and still lost deep inside the gallows of my head that are hanging on by a thin, thin thread. Constant negative thoughts illuminate my mind, and I find myself doing the same old shit, repeatedly, when I had originally planned to leave here by September 15th, and my writers block has been lurking behind me, much like the ghost of someone I once knew.

What the fuck are you doing?

I then start over-analyzing every little thing, as I tend to do, and start thinking that maybe the sewage leaking into my friends’ house was a sign from somewhere up above that I shouldn’t be going to Wyoming in the first place. A lot have things have changed since my original plan as is, so why not now? A metaphorical fork in the road, if you will.

Where do you go from here?

Then, my guardian angel reached out to me.

The Wednesday that I was supposed to leave, I woke up in terrible pain from my sciatic nerve issues that I will probably have for the rest of my life. The entire right side of my body was almost numb, and I considered Wednesday a mental health day. I fell asleep on the couch watching the trashiest shows I could find on Netflix just to ease the pain. I was snuggling on the couch with my cousins’ dog, the goofiest, most snuggly Great Dane you will ever meet in your life, and he had his paw on me and he laid on the couch and comforted me, as he could tell I was in some pain.

In my dream, I was talking to Dustin. I don’t remember much of the conversation, but I do remember that I told him about how nervous I was and about how I wondered if I was doing the right thing to finish this journey that feels so needed in my life at the moment. Right before I woke up, he put his hand on my head and started rubbing it, and said,

“Christina, don’t be afraid.”

I instantly woke up with this giant Great Dane paw on my head, simultaneously, and immediately burst into tears. Dustin always knows when I need him, in some weird way or another.

I got myself up, got some coffee, and told myself that I was no longer going to let fear control my life. Wherever I am going, I am leaving early next week, and this I promise you. I don’t care if I decide by flipping a fucking coin as to where I am going.

I need this for my soul, and I will no longer be afraid. Thanks, Dustin.

Until next time.