I finally made it back to England after a difficult 2 12 weeks in Rochester and a lot of paranoia an anticipatory anxiety regarding CBP and airport security. I arrived at Gatwick around 8 am and my luggage was as good as waiting for me on the carousel. I took the first Thameslink train into London St. Pancras, which was absolutely packed mostly full of London commuters and very uncomfortable. I’m now at Kings Cross Station, where I have almost 3 hours to wait for my train to Grantham, where my mum will be meeting me station there. The good news is that my bikes will be there waiting for me…I just hope my useless, dyspraxic ass can reassemble them without needing to haul them over to the local bike shop,, looking like an idiot.
The relief of leaving Rochester and the United States for good hasn’t hit me yet…I’m too exhausted. Trump has no power over me now. I am never going back there.
Thank god I was able to self-medicate with alcohol and Lorazepam, because my anxiety would’ve got the better of me if I had attempted all that stuff sober..