I feel really constipated. There. I said it.

Tummy problems have plagued me ever since I suffered from intense eating disorders and chucked excessive alcohol consumption on top of that. It’s a real bane on my life. For the last two weeks I’ve struggled to be healthy, toilet wise. I’m constantly feeling a mix of nauseated and hungry at mealtimes,  and bloated and uncomfortable (ESPECIALLY on the beach).  My friend remarked that it’s better than the opposite, good old diarrhea, but I think that depends on context –  I’d rather experience full on poopiness for a day or two than this ever present heavy grossness.

I think one of the main problems is that it’s not just a physical problem. I’m experiencing a lack of energy and vitality, two prerequisites to fully enjoy life. Especially at the beach as a bartending volunteer. The unending discomfort and frustration with lack of toilet time has made my mood really low, and I’m not enjoying how little motivation I have to get up and love each day like I had been. Physical activities that kept me exhilarated and ecstatic each day have become such an effort; swimming in the giant pool Turks call the sea, hiking through the ruins, climbing cliffs and performing upside down tarzan yells kept me happy. Now I don’t really feel like doing anything. My eating habits are broken – I’m never certain whether to eat or not, constantly feeling ill, and breakfast is a massive uphill struggle. No wonder I have no energy. It’s incredibly annoying because the food we are provided with is so delicious, but I’m battling to enjoy or appreciate it all. It’s making me sad.

Constipation. I hate it.

I’m trying to flush my system. Haha. Lemon juice in hot water is my new votka-visne (except I drink this ALL day). Refined flours and heavy proteins are being avoided. Exercises are being done and I’m really, really trying to fix it. But nothing seems to work. I  feel like my lack of relief is almost making me depressed. Which is why I realised that looking after your health while travelling is so important.

When you are a traveller, even if you’re working, life seems a little less serious than before you left. Especially if you, like me, have just embarked on your first solo journey with no end in sight. It’s likely that you will push yourself too hard and too far with partying, late nights, a less careful diet – at least initially. I’m coming on to the 2 month anniversary of my departure from South Africa, and amongst the many things I’ve learned so far is that you really need to look after yourself, and make conscious decisions regarding your health. I am working in the tourist sector, volunteering and meeting new friends basically every day. These people come and leave around me, dancing and drinking away their holidays by night and exploring by day. Which is all well and good for a week or two. But come a month in and your body needs a break. When you don’t give it one, your body- or your bowels- will soon let you know.

Another problem – I feel fat. Even though I broke the awful cycle of ano-bulimia bullshit, there are still days when I worry. This constant feeling is eating away at me; I worry too much about it, and my self-esteem is dipping along with my mood.

I have just under a week left at Deep Green, and I still have a lot of things I want to do. Most of them are physically taxing, and require energy and motivation to make happen. I am desperate to embrace every last bit of adventure this place can offer me. I don’t know if I can now. I don’t have the energy to take a cool shower when I’m hot, let alone climb a mountain. On top of that, my mood becomes so ‘meh’ that I can’t even be bothered to care. Ironically, I’ve been too embarrassed to ask the owners wife if she has anything to help me. Now that I’m posting this, I think I’ll go chat to her right away. Silly Me.

This post is a little more personal than usual, and a lot more unfun – but that’s what travelling is. A lot of ups and downs. It’s not always great, it’s often amazing, and sometimes its just shit.

Or lack thereof.