How to be comfortable, when you feel uncomfortable

As I travelled, and breathed a new delight of air, I returned to my daily suck machine of reality. My daily routine drains me dry. Vaporises my free spirit. Unlike the calm, free, and welcoming atmosphere in Scandinavia. Where the sky was my friend, and the beach, boats, and mountains whispered to my ears joy. Ah. I genuinely loved it there.

And now, back to London’s hasty rush I feel overwhelmed and drowning by the sting-fish of ‘Busy-ness’. Today amongst the- what used to be regular people, I felt a stranger. Like I didn’t belong, and as if I am a visitor soon to departure. I sat at the back, faded away like a ghost- and looking like one too. If I had a dime for every single time someone asked me “what’s wrong” in this one day alone, I would be a millionaire! My head dragged side to side avoiding people’s unnecessary concern. I was fine. I just needed some time to myself to re-adjust to the loud surroundings of London.

I had realised something important. Firstly, I wasn’t happy, only because the people around me weren’t. And although before my optimism overrid me, when I convinced myself that I didn’t need people to make me happy, but now, I realised happiness is contagious, and I couldn’t façade joy, I just didn’t feel it. Instead I was miserable. But I don’t understand why. Perhaps it was just something to do with the nature of Londoners, as statistics show living standards and happiness in London is almost nothing compared to Scandinavia.

Going back there after a long time, since I grew up there throughout my childhood brought back a lot of happiness, and stress relieve.

I was uncomfortable here in London. What is supposed to be my 'home'. I feel like I fade away amongst the millions of people in busy old London, and although this may be good to me since I don’t like attention that much, joke, no really it would be nice to have less populated cities so that people are more friendly- like in Norway everyone smiles at each other, or recognises one another.

Here, you could walk down the street one day depressed and a lonely addict, and the next day be dead and all those people you passed by the street continue their life completely unaware of your situation, whereas in Scandinavia you would hear the story of the depressed man who died, and you would remember him, recall a time you came into connection with him, and feel terrible for him.

So how do I become comfortable? Do I just brush away my over exaggerated feelings of self anomie and continue my life the way it used to be, banter with my friends, force my old self to precede a life of façade love of busy lifestyle, move on and keep going. Or do I appreciate what I have learnt. Isolate myself from those I dislike and frankly cannot be bothered any longer to pretend to get along. Drag the days across the rough carpet, leaving behind a burning rash- ignore the drilling siren. Time moves on, and although I am grateful of the beautiful cultural and tolerant London, I also wish more, and hope for more. Maybe in the future. But now I have some time to ponder. Hmm.