Once you’ve hit a vibrational rock bottom, the only way must be up. If you’re like “huh what just happened?”, you’ve probably missed part #2 Slippin’ Into Darkness of my journey, in which I describe the gloomy period I found myself in only shortly after posting part #1 Confessions of a Millennial Burnout. Following this depressive episode, I was confronted with one of the hardest yet most empowering decisions I’ve had to make in a long time; not because of the outcome, but for the symbolic value that both ends represented. Let’s rewind.

Having moved to Sydney with nothing but my own literally a week after my 18th birthday and having lived in Canada for 3 months, I didn’t think of moving to Spain past January as a major challenge. Although I did casually forget to take into the equation my seriously disturbed and distressed state at the time, and I was painfully reminded of that. This time moving abroad, it was different. The city itself being nothing short of beautiful, it was the unfortunate combination of my vulnerable condition with troubling language barriers, a bunch of practical setbacks, the inability to make friends, on top of all the usual turmoil that comes with moving to another country. As much as I had been trying to get used to the new environment that I had escaped to, I could not seem to find my place in Valencia, and was growing increasingly unhappy being there.

This is where the internal conflict begins. A big part of me desperately wanted to come back to Amsterdam, but the other (even larger) part – the bit that has kept me there already for months – refused to give up on the mission and surrender to such weakness. I told myself maybe I should learn to be alone for once, deep down knowing I had been alone so often yet wouldn’t get through this with the support of my friends and loved ones around. I told myself maybe I shouldn’t give up on something I had worked so hard to make possible, deep down knowing the experience had no value whatsoever in the current mind space I was in. I told myself to return would be to fail, knowing that by staying I was failing myself, my soul. I am aware now that this negative self-talk has been one of the major drivers in bringing me down and I am trying to be nicer to myself during mental dialogue.


hasta pronto amsterdam #schiphol

A photo posted by ’93 til infinity ✌️ (@nadiapiet) on


airport life

A photo posted by ’93 til infinity ✌️ (@nadiapiet) on


all I need in this life of sin

A photo posted by ’93 til infinity ✌️ (@nadiapiet) on


This strong discord and back-and-forth indecisiveness continued for sometime while I kept throwing euros at back-and-forth tickets between Valencia and Amsterdam. My inner dialogue was driving me mad until someone close to me pointed out the following. For most people going back home would have been moving back to their comfort zone; a state of being I’ve always been panically afraid of (probably even more than depression). But for me it wasn’t like that. Ironically enough, giving up on all those goals and ideals I had held myself to and that kept me in Spain – and the overall vicious circle I was in -, and choosing instead to do what I thought would make me feel better; that was leaving my comfort zone; that was my challenge; that was what I needed to grow. What a mindfuck. Isn’t it mad how lost we can get in the chambers and illusions of our own thinking? So the question now boiled down to: should I stay in a miserable situation merely to live up to more of my fake ideals?

From there it still took me a few weeks of silent attempts and loud denial to come to a place of acceptance, but I did give in. For the first time ever, I choose what felt right over what I told myself would be the right thing to do. I took my experiencing self over the striving self. Like I said it wasn’t so much about returning up North, but all about the symbolic meaning of doing so. A choice I had finally been able to make for myself and made so powerfully: to prioritize my happiness, my joy, my feel state, over all else. The time had come to return to the base I had always been running from, and work on my very foundation.

I am still working through the bureaucracy of this change of plans and on recovering the financial loss that came with it; but those are all practicalities. As soon as I made the decision, a strong and intense sense of relief and strength came over me. I just got back from Valencia and finished it all up, packed my stuff back up and enjoyed the Spanish sun for before I came back to the Northern lands. So far, the transition has been smoother than I could’ve ever hoped for.

I have found perfect peace in my resolution to return and think that in a way I might have needed this radical confrontation to be able to truly give up, truly give in, and trust myself and the journey of life to carry me to wherever I need to go. I guess sometimes we need to make decisions that signal the universe and our unconscious who we are, what we stand for and what we wish to attract in our lives. Like a turning point; indicating our new direction with full intent. I feel like this has been one of those moments and I couldn’t be more excited about the path I’ve chosen to travel. I made the conscious choice to prioritize my happiness over all else; to finally respect myself enough to value my feel state over some silly achievement. Dedicated to my self, this is where the healing truly starts.