Traveling has always made my heart sing, ever since I was young. I never realized I liked history until I went to Spain for the first time, it gave me a different appreciation of culture and history that we just don’t have here as much. Now, travel is a chance for my brain and body to rest from the trauma, as I was reminded during our honeymoon to Greece.

Greece is one of the friendliest places I have been to. We got a small taste of some of it,, as one can only do so much in 2 1/2 weeks. We saw Athens, then north to Meteora, then to the islands of Santorini, then Naxos. The question is always, what was your favorite? Each one. Athens, for its rich history, Santorini for its backdrop against the volcanic surroundings, Meteora for its stunning, peaceful, and majestic beauty of the mountains, rock formations and monasteries perched on top, and Naxos, for its chill, authentic, island like nature that allowed for rest and relaxation on its gorgeous beaches. All right, maybe Meteora and Naxos were tied for first.

There were some worries as we embarked on this journey. Having anxiety and PTSD makes you at times, not the most flexible in plans. Having been through what I have been through, I often try to meticulously plan things so unknowns don’t creep in. Oh, those unknowns and surprises. Like when I came home to Jesse and Bella dead on May 8, 2014. At least that’s what my brain assumes what a surprise is at this point. I also can get overwhelmed easily in crowds. And, don’t always do well with a lot of unstructured time.

So, how did I do? Mostly ok. If I have time ahead, which I had plenty, I can mentally prepare myself for upcoming situations. Like, I knew Athens and Santorini were going to be overrun with tourists. We paced moderately well for it, and I did ok-ish. Did we stay out and party the night away? No, but we aren’t those people anyways. Seriously, do you do that as a tourist? Go all day in the heat, seeing sight after sight, and go party after? Maybe I am showing my age. Anyhoo, we planned our time in Athens and Meteora well, as we were only going to be there for short periods, and wanted to see certain sites. Once we got to the islands, we had little to no itineraries, which I did surprisingly fantastic with. The only major hiccup we ran into was getting to the airport to go to Santorini. We had allowed for enough time, but did not take into account the metro ticket dispenser was broken. My brain shut down, and I went into over-control mode, which was not good, nor pretty. We got there barely, but it was too stressful. I recognize the pattern, and the whys behind it. In our relationship, F and I are always working through stuff like this when it arises, and I so appreciate him willing to do that, because it is hard enough to be within myself, I know being in a relationship with someone who has the issues and history I do, is not easy. Though, after talking with several people, when I told them that was pretty much the only foopah, they said, that is it?! I am constantly over-criticizing myself, it is a work in process.

When I am away, like really far away from here, especially in another country, it gives my body a chance to rest. The constant flight or fight, the constant diligence regarding my surroundings, trying to prepare for or divert things that can send me into a panic, or trigger my PTSD. The constant over analyzing everything. The barrage of memories from here, reminding me of a life that seems like a dream. Memories of Jesse, of Bella, of our family. When I am away, there is a pause, a break in that exhausting monotony. This is the first time since they died that I have been away for this length of time for pure fun. We have gone away around their death anniversary, and I have felt this to an extent then, but not like this. By the time we got to Naxos, those elements within, started to relax their stronghold over me a smidge. My brain definitely was relaxing for longer stretches. Sitting on the beach for long periods, watching the oceans rhythm, going in, letting it take some of the weight of this trauma, relaxing under an umbrella, reading book after book, just being. Not being triggered. Just being. It was a gift beyond words on so many levels. It was an aha of a possibility. A bit of hope? I of course wanted to move there and looked at real estate. No, it is not happening any time soon. But, what it did do, was start a conversation with F about retiring overseas. I think he saw how this trip affected me in such a positive way. I think I am going to take him to Costa Rica again to do some research.

Coming back was rough. There is always vacation blues. I got a cold right at the end, was jet-lagged, sick, and got a massive period because I messed with my hormones so I didn’t get one while away (I still did, sigh) and was just hormonally wonky because of all that. And as you read in my last blog, I have had moments of panic and despair on and off. I am of course watching myself, talking with my therapist, and watching even more. I know the signs of depression, they are always there in one way or another, sometimes a bit more at times. This is one of those times. There is also a lot of things that can be contributing. Though, while writing this, I just realized that my post-vacation blues, are probably more pronounced, because, for the first time since Jesse and Bella died, my body relaxed in so many ways for the longest it has up to this point, which of course is depressing to be slammed back into the reality of here.

For now, this moment, I am holding on to the knowledge that I can have these moments, these precious moments where my body can have a break. Again, it is not that it is not there, but there is a muted quality to it. I am practicing sitting, mostly in my yard, looking at the flowers, listening to the waterfall, and reminding myself of that precious time. Living with trauma and traumatic grief is a lifelong process with its ebbs and flows of trying to figure out how to cope with it, as it is part of your fabric. I continuously work at accepting that it is a ride of sorts, that sometimes I can control, and sometimes I can’t. After this trip, I have some hope though, and that is another ever so rare gift within itself, that I will hold on tight to for now.