The ugly truth about this travel blogger’s journey to find happiness in a saturated market of make believe

I’m suffering from depression. I hate to use that word to describe it, especially because I hate the word itself and how clinical the diagnosis feels. But after many months of battling with my emotions, I’ve come to accept that I am, in fact, depressed. I spend most of my days plugging away on the computer, writing code, editing photos, and trying to crack social network platforms. Then I go into my real job, which allows me the luxury of at least paying my bills while I make a go of this travel blog life. My days are filled with work and more work, and what bothers me the most about the never ending grind is the content that we’re pushing as travel enthusiasts: sunny beaches, ancient ruins, never ending sunsets. Essentially the happiest times of our lives. And while someone on the outside may look at my website or Instagram and see all the wonderful places I’ve been and incredible things I’ve experienced, no one can ever really know what a labor of love it is unless they’ve also endured it. On the outside it all looks so shiny and luxurious, but the fact is that only a small part of a travel blogger’s life is actually the enjoyment of travel.

I went on a big trip last summer to England and Ireland. It was certainly not the best trip I’ve ever been on, but I did get a ton of photos and content, so much so that I haven’t even posted it nine months later. With a second trip to England behind me as well as Germany, Spain, Italy, and two trips to the Hawaiian islands, I’ve barely scratched the surface of my content iceberg. I have so much travel content that it’s spilling out of my ears, which most people would absolutely die for. But I feel overwhelmed with the amount of stuff I have to do and things I need to post. What once was a cute idea that brought me joy and pleasure has now become tedious and tiresome. Where once I was walking into places and simply absorbing the moment at hand, I am now videoing, editing, and staging practically everything I come into contact with, only to find that once I’m home, I could have used just a few more pictures or another angle.

Did you know that statistically 54% of Americans have only visited 10 or less states within the continental United States?

I haven’t traveled in quite awhile, six months to be exact. And to the normal person, that really isn’t much. When you consider that most people only go on a proper vacation once a year, and lots of people don’t travel at all, it sounds a lot like I’m being an unappreciative little twit. Many people think a quick weekend out of town at a cheap motel counts as a vacation, but to travel bloggers and enthusiasts, we know better. When we talk about traveling somewhere, we mean traveling. Long, long flights, connecting in every shithole, Podunk airport imaginable. Trains, trams, buses galore. To reach a destination so magical, so otherworldly, that you’d have to see it with your own eyes to believe it. I’m not talking about taking your kid to Disney on Ice. I’m talking about renting a camper van and driving the coast of Australia for a month or back packing through Fiji, hopping from island to island, discovering long lost waterfalls and snorkeling with sharks. The most incredible destinations in the world that most people will only ever see in pictures. So when I say I haven’t traveled in awhile, what I mean is that I’ve been trudging along day by day without knowing the unadulterated joy and pleasure that my heart feels when I leave this place I call my home.

I’ve come to the stark realization that the life I live here, in a city of miscreants and transients, surrounded by fake people and inauthentic sentiment, in an industry that breeds distrust and malintention, may very well be the death of me. One can only exist in a toxic environment for so long before it eventually makes them toxic too. So my solution is this: I’m taking my next big trip and turning it into my forever adventure. I’ve decided to use my coming trip to Australia to gauge my readiness and adaptability. If everything works out as I hope, and I don’t turn into a puddle of emotion, self-loathing and doubt, I’m selling my house and all my worldly possessions and hitting the road. I haven’t pinpointed a final destination yet, although Australia is high on my list along with Sardinia. I’m essentially going to leave everyone and everything I’ve ever known to embark on a journey with my fat cat and little dog to who-knows-where. My idea of an epic adventure. Think of me as Samuel L. Jackson from Pulp Fiction, wandering the road of enlightenment.

“From here on in, you can consider my ass retired” - Jules, Pulp Fiction

Travel blogging friends and other enthusiasts, I’d love to hear from you. How often do you travel a year? How do you guys deal with the downtime when you aren’t traveling? How do you guys organize your content and stay productive? How often do you think about saying fuck it and starting over?

Any comments, questions, or helpful tidbits are greatly welcomed!