The Human Cost of Freedom

Cost of Freedom copy

The idea of travelling the World, meeting people of different nationalities, varying cultures and backgrounds that, as the middle class Englishman that I am, you could never imagine sounded attractive and enthralling and something I’d dreamed of since a child. As the years passed I always knew that in order to go after this dream there would be sacrifices to be made. Sacrifices which I may have not known the importance of prior to my departure, but sacrifices which would be more than apparent to me as I flew inch by inch away from my country of birth, my family and my ghost’s of life past.

My initial journey to Mexico City involved me flying from Manchester to Cancun and then a 2 hour flight to Mexico City, it was on this flight to Mexico City that every wrongdoing, every regret and every guilt that existed in my subconscious hit me with the force of a meteor. Admittedly, I was incredibly tired from my journey and the lack of sleep from the night before, only compounded my damaged state.

My mind raced at light speeds, spitting out questions that I couldn’t even begin to summon responses to and certainly not at that speed. The water of emotion began to fill my eyes, the alpha male kicked in, I suppressed the flow, then the levy broke and I flooded my cheeks with that guilty salt and opened my soul to the darkness. The truth was that I didn’t have a clue what the fuck I was doing, I had no clue if I’d wrecked my life  or created the dawn of the true me, do I even care?

The truth is I do/did care but I was in no frame of mind to compute such information at 10,000 feet with a headful of weariness, I let the tears flow , composed myself ( like strong men do) and squashed the emotions for the time being, but only for the time being, I HAD to deal with this shit at some point!!

The fact of the matter is that as a precursor to my trip I had left my job of 13 years,a job  I had despised without question. I worked for Tesco during those years and, contrary to some mindless lunatics who claim their time there was ‘life affirming’ or an ‘important part of their life,’ I detested each and every part of it. Those who in their heart of hearts knew that they could always do better than such a job will say things like ‘I made great friends there,’ or ‘It gave me great experience’ are frankly, full of shit, the friends you made were necessary to survive, I don’t doubt they’re great friends but you connected in a foul environment. The fact is that if you don’t feel as though you are better than  supermarket job then you are exactly where you should be, if you do then you are either there out of necessity or laziness.  However, I digress.

Coupled with me leaving my job of 13 years, I had recently broken up with my partner of over 10 years, both leaving their own scars and regrets. I had a life that many seek, a secure job, a relationship that, with work, could have lasted a lifetime, I owned my own home and had security , had I thrown an amazing opportunity  away?

The truth is that neither my relationship break up nor my leaving of my job were originally decided with travel in mind. Well certainly not the relationship but I was offered redundancy from my job which I took with both hands and both feet and once that cash was in my bank I never had any plans for it other than transferring it into foreign currency and reigniting my life. A decision which at this point, on the plane to Mexico City, I convinced myself was flawed.

The truth has yet to unfurl but since arriving in Mexico City I have a very real idea of the journey that emotions have taken and will take me on, I love life here and often regret decisions I have made but the overwhelming feeling is that of wonder and curiosity, the breakdown was important but hasn’t overwhelmed me, it merely served as a reminder of our utterly fucked up human characteristics and why, for somebody in my circumstances, almost each and every joy is tinged with an alarming sense of what…the…fuck.

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