When I’m sad/happy/mad/hurt —> I Go on an adventure.
Usually to a beach, or a forest. Little to no other people. Maybe just other people in the same place as me.
Fresh air + endless possibilities = makes everything seem a little less extreme. Puts things into perspective. Gets me out of my head and into the scenery.
I can always go home later, having a special memory that is mine and only mine. That no one can take away. My secret happy place. That day on the beach. That afternoon on the hill. That night on the bay.
When people ask how my day was, I say, “Fine.” And I don’t tell them about my adventure. Because I couldn’t even begin to explain what it really meant or why I needed to go. All they know is that I’m back.