I have put such a high guard up on my heart & soul with everything and I think that’s what’s been destroying me. I have become so cold and jaded, and the recognition of it has been heavy lately. This time of year fucks me up. It forces me to become still and overthink my life away. My passion for travel has died down so much since coming back from living in the van. There was a point where I was driving somewhere new every week for months at a time, just because I could and I wanted to. So I did. I lived out of my car on and off for a whole year, and then the van for a bit. I have always been one to free roam, never really plan ahead and just kinda face whatever happens while it happens. It’s how I’ve gotten some of my favorite experiences in my life thus far. Then the van trip got planned, and all of a sudden, everything I’ve ever known about roaming got lost. I don’t know why I agreed to do it that way. Three whole months. We could’ve made it so far. I made it to California & back in six days one time, and now I’m sitting here wondering what the hell was wrong with me in that van. I come from a family of nomads, it’s in my blood, and I believe it’s a huge reason why being on the road has always felt like home for me. I don’t know what that feeling is, but it’s the feeling I’ve never failed to chase. Going out to Nevada a couple months ago sparked that fire in me to travel more again, but then I got home. And then I lost it. And now I feel stuck again. The winter has a funny way of making you adapt, and for someone who usually has no problem with adapting to literally anything, I, for some reason, cannot figure this one out. Never have, never could. I struggle with this every fucking year. Usually this is where I pack up my car and go. But this numbness is weighing me down, and I feel like I can’t move a single bone. Winter in a nutshell.