Flucht.

When you are escaping from a cult family and ritual abuse, funny things can seem life safe places.

As a kid, I never felt safe. This is a realisation I have come to from seeing that I was never able to fulfil my deepest wish 'to sit quietly in my room', after Pascal. Just trying to stay still and 'relax' in my bedroom would bring on such anxiety that I would have to leave the house to run any number of needless errands. This habit has persisted, even though the danger has receded. Sometimes, feeling stressed by my alltag, I feel like I need to run away to travel to a new city, not telling anyone where I am. In the swarming streets of a foreign country I can finally relax and feel at home, at peace, safe.
This happened to me most recently, when I took off to Amsterdam. Everything felt so homely to me. The overnight coach trip, where surrounded by people, I was able to sleep carefully surrounded by a protective blanket of people. At the hostel, I choose a 20 bed mixed dorm-- a horror for most people, who would be put off by the noise and lack of privacy. But, again, here curled up in my little nook, I feel asleep soundly to a quiet dorm, where moonlight came in through the window and the beds were arranged feng shui.