God, I remember that night in Tokyo so clearly. My Instagram that day? A perfect bowl of ramen and me looking carefree at some viewpoint. The reality? I was sitting on my bed at 11pm, watching Instagram stories of my family having Thanksgiving dinner, feeling a hollowness that hit harder than any homesickness I’d expected. Solo travel burnout hits quick.
That’s the thing no one warns you about before you take off with that one-way ticket. Everyone talks about finding yourself, but nobody mentions losing yourself a bit first.
If you’re feeling something similar – that weird emptiness that makes no sense when you’re living your “dream” – you’re not crazy. You’ve just stumbled into what I call solo travel depression and burnout.
The Reality Behind the Highlight Reel
Let me get real with you. When I started my travels and took off for that “life-changing” half a year abroad, I expected to be living in a permanent state of wonder and growth. The reality hit me hard about two months in. I was in a Seoul hostel, sweating through another sleepless night, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I had saved for years for this trip—why wasn’t I enjoying paradise?
Look, solo travel isn’t just sunset beers on beaches and profound moments at ancient temples. It’s also:
- That awkward moment when the restaurant host asks, “Just one?” for the fifteenth day in a row
- The whiplash of making an incredible connection with someone, only to part ways knowing you’ll probably never see them again
- Deciding EVERYTHING yourself until your brain feels like mush (Seriously, I once stood in a supermarket aisle in Japan for 20 minutes trying to choose what meat to buy because I was so decision-fatigued)
- Constantly navigating new languages and customs that your brain never gets to operate on autopilot
- Having nobody to call when you’re sick and need someone to grab you medicine
This doesn’t mean you’re failing at travel. It means you’re human, dealing with some genuinely challenging stuff.
Recognizing Solo Travel Burnout
Before I get into what helped me, let’s talk about how to know if what you’re feeling is actually travel burnout:
You Might Be Experiencing Travel Burnout If:
- That temple/museum/beach you’d normally be stoked to see now feels like a chore
- You’ve started skipping hostel social events to scroll through your phone instead
- Little things about the local culture that you found charming two weeks ago now irritate the hell out of you
- You keep seeing other travelers’ posts and thinking “they’re doing it better than me”
- You’re physically exhausted but somehow can’t sleep well
- You feel weirdly lonely even in crowded hostels or busy cafes
- You catch yourself checking home prices in your hometown (been there)
How I Overcame Solo Travel Depression (And How You Can Too)
1. I Slowed The Hell Down
My first three months, I was area-hopping every 3-4 days like it was some kind of race. FOMO had me by the throat.
What saved me:
- I forced myself to book a month in Tokyo instead of continuing my frantic pace
- I scheduled literal “do nothing” days on my calendar where sightseeing was BANNED
- I splurged on a private room in a guesthouse instead of another dorm bed
That month of slowness cost me seeing a few countries on my original itinerary. Know what? I don’t regret it at all. Those countries aren’t going anywhere.
2. I Found My People (Not Just Random People)
Once the novelty wears off, meeting new backpackers every day starts feeling as deep as speed dating. I needed something more substantial.
What actually worked:
- I’ve connected with new people through mutual friends.
- Met up with people on Meetup
- I scheduled actual calendar appointments for video calls with my friends and family instead of saying “we should catch up soon”
3. I Created Tiny Routines (Boring But Sanity-Saving)
The constant newness of travel is mentally exhausting. Your brain is processing so much information that it’s basically running hot all the time.
Small things that saved my sanity:
- I started each day with the same stretching routine, no matter where I was
- I found “my cafe” in each new place and went there almost daily
- I kept Sunday nights as my laundry-and-call-mom time, just like at home
- I stuck to my 10-minute journaling habit before bed
It sounds stupidly simple, but these little anchors of familiarity kept me grounded when everything else was changing.
4. I Finally Admitted My Body Wasn’t Just Along for the Ride
When you’re busy having these amazing experiences, it’s easy to treat your body like it’s just the vehicle getting you there. But man, physical neglect will mess with your head faster than anything.
Game-changers for me:
- I started prioritizing sleep over “can’t miss” nights out
- I found a workout I could do in hostel rooms (thank you, YouTube HIIT)
- I stopped pretending my diet of street food and hostel toast wasn’t affecting me and started finding supermarkets for some actual vegetables
- I cut back on the booze. Sorry, but those pub crawls were wrecking my sleep and mood
- I started taking Vitamin D supplements
5. I Found Ways to Process What I Was Experiencing
One weird thing about solo travel is experiencing all these intense moments with nobody who really knows you to talk about them with.
What helped me:
- I journaled almost daily, even if it was just bullet points
- I voice-memo’d my thoughts when I was too tired to write
- I got into meditation to just sit with the overwhelming feelings
6. I Gave Myself Permission to Not Be Having “The Time of My Life” Every Minute
This was maybe the biggest one. I’d sunk my savings into this trip, quit a good job, and told everyone I was off to “live the dream.” The pressure to be constantly fulfilled was crushing me.
What finally changed:
- I started telling friends back home the real stuff, not just the highlight reel
- I admitted in my journal when a place disappointed me or when I was just feeling meh
- I stopped thinking of sadness or loneliness as failures of my travel experience
- I reminded myself that even people in beautiful places are still people with normal human emotions
When to Consider Bigger Changes
Sometimes the small fixes aren’t enough. For me, four months into my trip, I hit a wall in Tokyo. It was winter, I didn’t speak Japanese, and I’d been moving too fast again. I felt like a complete fraud for feeling so miserable while “living the dream.”
After a week of barely leaving my hostel, I made some radical changes:
- I blew some serious budget to get an Airbnb apartment for a month instead of hostel-hopping
- I found a co-working space and bought a month pass, which gave me a place to go daily
- I started learning Japanese through apps, YouTube, and with friends
- I made myself a rule: only ONE tourist activity per week. The rest of the time was for living
It was during that month that everything shifted. I made actual friends – not just travel buddies. I had my favorite shisha bar where they recognized me. I started understanding snippets of Japanese conversation.
By slowing down so dramatically, I paradoxically started enjoying travel again. The second half of my year abroad was infinitely better than the first half, specifically because I stopped trying to make every moment Instagram-worthy.
It’s OK to Not Be Having the Time of Your Life
Here’s what I wish someone had told me: Solo travel can be one of life’s most amazing experiences, but it’s also legitimately HARD sometimes. The freedom that makes it amazing can also make it overwhelming. The self-reliance that makes it empowering can make it lonely.
If you’re in that dark hostel room feeling like you’re somehow failing at traveling because you’re sad or lonely or burnt out – you’re not. You’re just having a normal human response to an abnormal (though amazing) situation.
Your low moments don’t invalidate your adventure. They’re part of it.