Six Months To Burn Out 🌸 Saved By Kenya | Inspiring Story #7

Six Months To Burnout ...

It only took six months before I started to feel broken and burnt out.  I’d been told this special project in Germany would take up about 30% of my working time.  In reality, the project ended up stealing 100% of my time.  I was trying to juggle my regular day job responsibilities with fulfilling the demands of the new project.  I was struggling.  

I began working more overtime. I started working weekends without pay!  Don’t slaves work without pay? 

I felt a heavy responsibility to complete this project and to complete it well!  Desperately tired and exhausted, tears and dread slowly replaced my eager enthusiasm.  Stress eked away at my energy until there was no satisfaction left in my work or life.  

I hadn’t had a holiday in years, but I needed one.  All I wanted was a two-week all-inclusive vacation at a nice hotel! 

I wanted to relax at the beach, sunbathe and have a cool drink at the bar.  And because none of my friends had time or money for a vacation, I decided to fly ALONE to Diani Beach, Kenya. 

No Turning Back.   Kenya, Here I Come!

I rock gently to the sway of the train.  I was heading to the airport in a carriage packed with people.  There wasn’t even room in the aisle between the seats.  Where there wasn’t a person standing or sitting, there was a suitcase.  I looked behind me to make sure my luggage was safe.  I wanted to make sure no one was trying to steal or tamper with my bags.  All clear.  

Two kids were playing and laughing opposite me.  They were louder than the crowd, and the other passengers were staring at them.  I popped my earphones in and stared out of the window... I would walk 500 miles.  And I would walk 500 more … The song went on, and I went wandering into my own world.

“Do you really want to travel alone to Kenya?  I mean it’s Africa, Annika?" 
“Annika, you don’t know the kind of criminals you'll meet, it's not that easy you know."  

I started to think about the advice I’d been given about traveling to Kenya…

“Take care when you're at the ATM because you could get robbed!”

“Don't take taxis with drivers that you don't know.  They’ll drive to secret back-streets where no one can see you, and they’ll rob you.  They will have knives and guns, and they’ll take everything from you.  They’ll dump you there in your underwear!”

Worries and doubts started to whizz around my mind.  Am I crazy to go to Kenya alone? 

I felt the stress like a big rock, heaving on my breast.  I almost couldn’t breathe.  I don’t know what I’m doing. What if my luggage gets stolen or lost?  What will I do when I’m alone, and what if there is no one to help me?

I can’t do this!  Oh my God! I can’t do this!   These feelings of doubt flashed up and threatened my trip with overwhelming fear.  I wanted to turn around and go home.

But I really need this vacation.  I was exhausted.  I had to go through with it.  The thought of arriving home and telling my friends and colleagues that I had turned back was too much of a loss for me to consider.  I had no choice. You booked it, Annika. You paid for it, and other girls can do solo trips; why can't you do it?  You HAVE to do it!

Nineteen hours later, the plane touched down in Mombasa. Exhausted and hungry, I stepped off the flight onto Kenyan soil. 

My Kenyan Taxi Ride – Alone! … (the story continues)