Sometimes the only way through is to write the whole mess out of my head.
It’s early Saturday morning and I’m still not sleeping. After a week of almost no real rest, I’m at a bit of an emotional low—not because things are bad. It’s both terrifying and weirdly wonderful at the same time. I hear the surf and the howling of the strays. I’m in a far, exciting place, and I’m the brave traveler who chose it.
I want to be here and I want to be independent. I want to do it all on my own—and yet, right now, I’m accepting help like a little girl. That’s not the strong, self-reliant woman I picture in my head.
But there’s another part of me that says: it’s completely okay to need help at the beginning. I’ll learn. Soon I’ll manage just fine by myself. A bumpy start is normal. I’m only just beginning to meet my new home honestly.
From my Swiss angle, this country and its rhythms feel wild. I’m not stupid; I know things simply work differently here. Bye-bye, e-banking and one-click shopping. Whatever. I’ll adapt. (Little Borg drone reporting for assimilation.)
I’m going to give everything to live the life I’ve always wanted here—a good, full, meaningful life. I’ll make things I love, with people who love me. I’ll get exactly that, because I’ve earned it. I’ve swallowed enough crap for one lifetime.
And I know I am becoming the person I want to be.
All my “monsters” are, in truth, princesses waiting for me to see myself as beautiful and brave—at least once. The waiting is over. I’m on my way.
A note on the sleeplessness (and why I’m not panicking)
Insomnia in week one of a big move is common, not a crisis. My body and brain are adapting to:
- A new routine and environment (light, noise, temperature, bed, unfamiliar safety cues).
- Stress hormones still running high from travel and change (hello, cortisol and adrenaline).
- Different meal times, caffeine patterns, and daily activity.
- A brain that thinks “stay alert until we understand this place.”
What I’m doing: gentle days, morning sunlight, lots of water, short early-day naps if needed, screens down late, writing things out (like this), and letting help be okay. If it takes a little while, that’s normal. Sleep is a reflex, not a test I have to pass. It will come—my body can’t keep me awake forever.
For now, the sea keeps breathing, the dogs keep singing, and I’ll keep learning how to belong.