That blast of Moroccan heat when the doors open at Agadir airport has never been more welcome and as I board the minibus that will take my group to the retreat, it is hard to balance the familiar holiday feeling with the reticence when anticipating just how much of yourself you might share with these people, complete strangers. Because this isn’t a holiday. If mental illness were a physical affliction, the week would be tantamount to invasive surgery. I’m here to be cut and probed at the aptly named Resurface, a surfing retreat. There is no one type of person here. Recovering drug addicts, abuse survivors, co-dependants and straight-up sufferers of mental health issues are all in attendance. Being in the latter camp almost makes me feel dull, if not slightly unworthy.
from Mr Porter - The Journal https://ift.tt/3rPt0xu
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from Mr Porter - The Journal https://ift.tt/3rPt0xu
via IFTTT