Lessons in Thailand

Being a solo star ain't always easy.

A call from my neighbor at 6:47a, Thai time: "Hey, are you still in Thailand? There's a fire close by us in the hills and they're evacuating our community."

Panic. I'm sitting in bed in Bangkok.

Me: "Wait, hold on...I have another call coming in."

It's my petsitter. She confirms what's happening and asks if there's a place she can take my cat on account of the evacuation order. I didn't make a provision for that. There wasn't supposed to be a fire.

Me to me: "Why TF are you in Thailand????? You have a life to attend to! In Oakland."

I call my friend who also has a key. She was waiting to call me until she'd heard an update on the news. She confirms the exits and highway near me are closed. I burst into tears. Big ones.

I'd been feeling increasingly anxious in the weeks leading up to this trip and couldn't pinpoint why. This was my first international jaunt since 2019; I like traveling; why was I so pressed?

This. This is why. Fear. Fear of things happening and me being on another continent, unable to tend to my responsibilities. And here was the fear, come to life. Fear of not being able to manage the happenings of my life.

This is the downside of solo living.

I pride myself on having a life where I'm fully responsible for myself. And here I was having to ask people...married people, working people, people with their own lives, to manage mine. It feels grossly irresponsible. And helpless. And dependent.

I'm in dangerous emotional territory. Long story short, I grew up understanding that in many ways, I would be responsible for taking care of myself (in a lot of ways, I'm better for it). And here I am, dependent, and from another continent at that.

Sigh.

My friend lets me cry. It's now 730a where I am. We watch KTVU online together. They're reporting that the fire is largely contained and 580 is reopened. She offers to go by the house to scope things out. I'm grateful and don't try to talk her out of it. She gets there and sends me pics of my boy. He's fine. Things appear to be in place, and the news is interviewing the fire chief, who says they're attending to hot spots, but things are ramping down and they expect to lift the evacuation order in a few hours. I call the petsitter back and let her know we should be ok to leave him at home and resume visits as normal tomorrow.

Crisis avoided.

But I'm still in Bangkok, slated to board a train tonight to another part of Thailand. I'm uneasy. I'm on edge. People are noticing I've become quiet. It's because I want to be home. Safe. Where I belong. And most importantly, able to tend to my life. Myself.

Independence is a beautiful thing that I've actually found a lot of peace in. But every now and again I come face to face with an experience that reminds me that with that comes the need to manage everything, and I can't be everywhere.

I have to learn to lean. And not feel remiss in doing so.

But right now, I mostly feel relieved. Despite my entire family being on the East Coast, somehow I've cultivated enough community to care. I'm grateful.

On to Chiang Mai.