Bath Reminded Me To Breathe

It was serendipitous that at a time my soul was feeling heavy and I couldn't shake this dark cloud that had claimed resident of my mind, that a trip to Bath was planned.

The trip wasn't for me; I'd booked it for my little sister to have a time of rest and relaxation after an incredibly stressful first year at university. Little did I know a month before I'd booked the trip, that I would need Bath just as much as my little sister did.

I'd been dealing with low mood for about three weeks prior and knew it was hormonal (please bare in mind my time of the month is max four days). You can read about my trying times with my period and how it affected and still affects me here. But it affected me deeply this cycle. Deeply. 

I couldn't write for three weeks. 

I didn't want to spend time with anyone for three weeks. 

I constantly wept for three weeks.

I barely smiled. 

I barely ate. 

I barely danced. 

I had never felt such disconnect from myself. I tried encouraging myself. 'It will pass. Take each day as it comes. You only have enough energy for today and you chose to get out of bed today. You're doing well.' But I didn't believe the words. And I began growing agitated and frustrated with myself for lying to myself.

Walks didn't help. Talking with my mum didn't help. I even felt as though quiet time with God didn't help. I didn't know how long I would be in this place, but I wanted out.

And then, Bath. 

As my sister and I took the overground train from Paddington, my eyes drifted to views of sloped green hills and houses no longer stacked side by side. 

There were barely any passengers on the train. Maybe two or three others. The train was beautifully quiet.

I loved hearing the names of places unfamiliar to me. Didcot Parkway, Chippenham. 

As we dismounted the train at Bath Spa, my soul immediately warmed at the sight of golden-stoned buildings. I soaked in the birdsong (my favourite nature sound next to ocean waves) and exhaled. I hadn't realised how much tension was stored in my body, nor was I aware that that relieving exhale was my first step to returning home to myself.

I basked in Bath's gardens and parks, which are second to none.

I was spoiled at The Kennard Guesthouse with wonderful hosts, elegant decor, exquisite breakfasts, lovely guests and a magnificent bedroom which my little sister and I took hundreds of polaroid pictures in.

I had numerous conversations with numerous Bathonians who are probably some of the kindest people I've met.

My sister and I had deep conversations about life, what we want from it and how we desire to get there.

We met the sweetest person who couldn't find his way to Bath Spa station. We took him there while listening to his journey about coming from Wales to heading to Glastonbury to play a set.

We took in art at The Victoria Art Gallery.

We ate amazing local food which reminded me we really aren't getting the best of foods from our supermarkets.

My sister and I got our profiles taken by Bath's local street photographer and we laughed and chatted for a while.

As the days ticked on, I was spending time with and among things, places and people that make me, me; I was constantly in the midst of nature. I connected with my sister and bonded with strangers alike through deep, meaningful conversations. I took polaroids which is one of my favourite things to do. I ate amazing food, another pastime of mine. And in between this all, I didn't realise I was laughing again. Smiling again. And I began dancing again. They manifested as little hops while I walked, but danced I did, nonetheless. 

I wasn't forcing myself to return. I was returning to myself on a clock I hadn't wound.

And then we visited the stunning Bath Abbey which ended up being one of my favourite moments. They had chapels for visitors should they wish to spend a few moments in quiet reflection or prayer, and I chose to spend a few minutes in one. I closed my eyes, clasped my hands in my knees and simply prayed. I prayed to God about everything in and on my heart. And then I sat there in the silence.

Transcendent is the word to perfectly describe that moment.

As the days passed and it was time to come back to London, I found myself growing anxious. But I had a small hope; I felt more strengthened leaving Bath than when I had arrived, and perhaps that strength would help carry me through this bleak period (no pun intended).

And my friends, I sit here, writing this post from the other side.

I know I can't leave London every time I have my period (maybe one day, haha), but I'm a strong believer of taking each day as it comes. I survived that cycle and the darkness that came with it. Especially as there were times I thought I would never see anything but fog. I learned I have a knack for trying to force myself to be better, instead of just allowing myself to be better in due course. It's not necessarily a bad thing, wanting to be better. But it can do more harm than good, pressuring yourself to heal before you're ready too.

Self-awareness is a powerful thing and a first step to becoming a better you. 

And so, I carry this lesson with me. Through that period, every period to come, and every situation in life that might make me want to act quickly when I should instead just let things be.

And that is enough for me.

So, I thank Bath for its beauty and helping me to breathe again.