I'm caving in

Monday, 19th of September. I not only did the direct route to Dublin, I did it by train. Saturday was once again just a rainy day and I wasn't in the mood to go out and cycle. Wherefore? Sean, Anne's boyfriend, had agreed to host me, Anne was happily in Dublin, too, at the moment, and we arranged to meet in an Irish club where they wanted to go to this evening.

When I wanted to buy my ticket the woman on the counter referred me to the train people to asked if I could take my bike with me. First they weren't so sure but then they agreed. Going by train isn't so popular in Ireland, most people are using the buses. There are not that much routes, and also the usage differs from the way it is in Germany, it's much more relaxed but also seems to be much less organized.

I liked the train ride. A new facet of my Ireland image. But all over Ireland the same boring weather. When I arrived in Dublin I tried to open my perception for this place, and actually it was a little like an interesting new experience – big colourful lights, night life, maybe somehow unique… I had some optimism, and it was fun to navigate through the city centre to find the club where I would meet Anne and Sean. Club Conradh na Gaeilge is a non-governmental organisation that promotes the Irish language in Ireland and abroad – so Sean taught me how to order my guinness in Irish (but I can't remember the spelling anymore…). I had a little faith by seeing Anne again, but was also fragile inside of me. When I'm in this mood I need lots of affirmation that people really like me and mean it. Otherwise I feel bound to act self confident, to show I'm an interesting person, who is worth the time to spend with and no boring burden. And Anne and Sean were very friendly but also busy. And then I'm not so sure if people just try to be nice but not really care.

On Sunday I once again cycled the ten kilometres up to the city centre but felt so lonely I wasn't able to motivate myself to do some touristic or cultural stuff. Dublin is so loud, so much people, so much traffic (this day lots of people on the street were celebrating because some sports team had won some game), and I was so small and lost. For the first time on my tour I really missed Klaus, because there was no reason to discover this town without him. I went to an Internet café that also gave me a bad feeling about being impersonal and not trustful and secure because of the suggestion to lock the rucksack. This was the time when the crying started. I couldn't stand it, couldn't control it, It was just losing all cohesion. I tried to find something to hold on to, but in the end there was just crying and this complete caving in. I cycled back to Sean's place, when another rain caught me. But those things couldn't get me down, I felt so lost and without any faith, so it didn't matter or was just fitting.

When I was back, Sean asked if I wasn't okay, so my small ability to buck up got lost again. My only idea how to help myself was to take the next train up to Tramore, as this place was the closest to home I could get in the moment. Sean wasn't reserved when I couldn't hold back tears and tried to say helpful things – that I surely miss my boyfriend, that I'm probably homesick, what actually isn't wrong but when you are so much caving in those statements can't really help. I needed to stay with friends where I could be sure it would be okay to burden them with myself. And I couldn't imagine it could be fun for Sean to have me around crying all the time because I feel so lost and don't know how to go on with my life. So I packed my stuff. When saying good bye Sean seemed to be really concerned. He regret we didn't spend more time together to get to know each other and do some music together. And then he gave me a long and warm hug. This felt so good. Maybe I could have had some more trust. But going to a place where I could be sure to feel comfortable felt much more safer.

During this train ride the crying came over me from time to time, but changed it's character. It wasn't no longer just feeling lonely and homesick but much more about feeling helpless and desperate about still don't know how to go on with my life. Am I a loser if I can't stand society's rules? What makes oneself a worthwhile person? Am I bad and selfish if I just produce this feelings that I can't stand it anymore? Isn't it just handy to wallow in self-pity about my suffering and just feel to ill as I would be able to do what all people have to do? It's all gridlocked and I can't figure out these conflicts. Why can't I be different? Maybe I use my feelings to manipulate others, so if I would be an worthwhile person I would just feel different. I don't want to fulfil any demand anymore. But a worthwhile person would just be able not to think about these things as demands.

When I left the train a woman wished me good luck on my trip home which felt good. Night cycling the ten or fifteen kilometres up to Tramore was nice, so in the end I cycled nearly 50 kilometres this day. This evening I realized for the first time that the days have become significant shorter – it was dark when I get on my bike at 8 P.M. So once again: Maybe it's also not the best time for cycling. And I still don't have to. I'm looking forward to come back home. And cycling through France could be nice, I think I will give it a try. But first I will stay with Patti and Mark and have some good talks like we started to do yesterday. It's not that I'm unhappy. I just don't know how to change live and become satisfied. And it doesn't help that I'm so annoyed about myself and think I'm putting myself much to center-stage.