Sunday, Connemara, Ireland
I went to bed last night and cried my eyes out, holding my mobile phone with the picture of Rob and Gemma on it. I seriously considered cutting my holiday short and flying home. For the past few days, I've been labouring with homesickness. Its nearly 9am. I have to leave for Scotland very early tomorrow morning. I've not been too well - gluten in everything and its reacting. Headaches and aches and pains. What can I do?
I know I'm whinging. But I'm super worried about the flight tomorrow. I'm worried about the bus trip to Paris. I'm seriously thinking of flying there instead. Simply because I dont think I can handle the journey by bus. I'm desperately missing my home, my bed, my children, my cat. My security.
I'm very grateful that Alvagh has given me this opportunity to see her Ireland, so very glad I have seen what I have seen. Connemara is everything and more than I had ever hoped or imagined. It fills my heart with light and magic...
But right now I just want to go home.
I don't know what to do. I really don't. There isn't anything I can do. But I will be boarding that plane tomorrow morning. I see myself in Scotland. I see myself in Paris. I see myself going home gladly and happily, Above all, I see myself safe.
This is just a little meltdown, outside my comfort zone. All will be well...