I’m not here because of the sun – Emigrating to Tunisia with depression

A morning in Chott Meriem – Daily life in Tunisia

Today, after a stormy week in February, the sun has finally appeared again.
I’m sitting with my Cocker-Jack dog Luna on a brick at the beach of Chott Meriem, gazing out at the endless blue expanse of the Mediterranean Sea.

It is quiet this morning.
I listen to the surf, the distant barking dogs, the wind in the palm trees. I breathe deeply. I feel the tension leaving my muscles. And I enjoy this moment – with a mindfulness that I have worked hard to achieve.

Why I really emigrated

Many believe I emigrated because of the sun.
Because of the sea. Because of an easier life.

And of course, they are right.
But that is only half the truth.

Sun as a metaphor for mental health

For me, the sun does not only mean warmth.
The sun means light.
And light is more than the opposite of darkness. It is the opposite of depression.

The dark shadow of a depressive illness accompanied me for many years of my life. My emigration was neither a spontaneous new beginning nor a romantic longing for the south. It was another, consistent step in a healing process spanning over twenty years.

Over twenty years of healing process

It took two decades for me to arrive where I am today.
Countless therapy sessions. Psychoeducation. Self-reflection. Setbacks. And an unyielding determination to get well.

I have been stable for almost a decade.
In the world of mental illnesses, this does not mean ‘everything is fine again.’ Stable means: free from acute crises. Free from new trauma. Standing on my own feet again – even if it sometimes still wobbles.

Stable is the state in which true healing only begins.

Mental illness and work ability – a societal misunderstanding

Health is defined in many systems – by doctors, by authorities – through work ability. Not being signed off sick is considered proof of recovery. For mental illnesses, this is too simplistic a framework. Anyone who has gone through depression, trauma, or anxiety knows: healing cannot be measured in percentages of work ability.

A fresh start with depression on the resume

When I was finally stable again about ten years ago, I still stood on a pile of shattered pieces. Debts. A torn resume. A job market that forgives gaps less than mistakes. And a society that distrusts psychological diagnoses faster than it understands them.

I tried everything to return to my old life.
But there is no ‘return before the first crash.’

So I decided not to keep standing on the pile of shards. But to step down. And to leave.

Not out of escape.
But out of consistency.

Mental health abroad – living instead of just functioning

Here in Tunisia, I am starting over. Not as a different person – but as the same person who has finally understood what is needed to stay healthy.

Mental health is not a state you reach once and then check off. It is more like sobriety in an addiction: You don’t suddenly become someone without a history. But you learn to live responsibly with it.

Today I know that I can do it.
I have tools. I have self-compassion. I have patience. And I have the ability to respect my boundaries.

And sometimes I take a brick, find a sunny spot on the beach with Luna, sit in the sand, and allow myself a few minutes to simply be content. Present. Mindful. Alive.

Maybe someday I will share more about the journey that led me here.

But for today, this is enough.

I am not here because of the sun.
I am here because I want to live.