Taking a Winter Break: Vanlife Paused, Not Stopped.

Vanlife has been an incredible adventure for us, but as this extremely cold winter sets in, Tash and I have had some long talks about what’s best for us right now. After weighing up all the options, we’ve decided to take a short break from full-time vanlife—but only until next year.

Initially, we hoped to find accommodation in Lincolnshire to stay close to the places we love, but with so little on the market, it just hasn’t been possible. Thankfully, we have a great relationship with our previous letting agents, and after a few discussions, they’ve worked with the landlord to let us move back into our old property for the winter months.

The past few days have been tough as we’ve been going through our storage unit to refurnish the house. It’s strange stepping back into a more fixed lifestyle, but this temporary change gives us a chance to reset and prepare for the next chapter.

Our Transit Connect has been a brilliant little van, but its limitations are more apparent in these harsh conditions. Without solar panels or 240V power, we’ve been relying solely on 12V, which has made things increasingly difficult in the freezing weather. I’ve been feeling anxious about it all, but sometimes you’ve got to adapt to keep moving forward.

That said, there’s a silver lining to this break. I’m big on Christmas, and with the limited cooking facilities in the van, it would have been a struggle to make it feel special. Now, at least, we’ll have a warm, cosy, and merry Christmas to enjoy together. It’s a small comfort that makes this transition a bit easier to accept.

This pause is only temporary, not the end. We’ll still be doing the odd night away and exploring whenever we can, but for now, we’re stepping back from living on the road full-time. Marking this chapter, our vanlife journey began on my 31st birthday, 31st May 2024, and we’ll press pause on 1st December 2024, exactly six months later.

In the meantime, this break gives us a chance to reset and focus on a few essentials. I’ll have access to my PC again, which means I can refine the blog and create better content. I’ve also upgraded to a new phone, which will make managing everything on the road much easier. Plus, the van needs some maintenance, its MOT is due in January, and I’ve got a few tweaks I want to finish on the build—all of which we’ll tackle while we’re temporarily off the road.

And let me be clear—the blog isn’t going anywhere, and neither are the posts. Whether it’s days out, short trips, or planning the next leg of our journey, I’ll still be here, sharing every step of the way.

This is just a new chapter in the same story. Vanlife will resume before you know it, and we’ll be back chasing the open road in no time.

Finding Freedom in Chaos: How Vanlife Helps Me Manage BPD.

Living with borderline personality disorder (BPD) is like trying to steer a ship in the middle of a storm. One minute, the seas are calm, the next, waves are crashing over the deck, and you're gripping the wheel, hoping you won't capsize. That’s been my reality for the last 11 years. But somewhere along the way, I found something unexpected—a way to ride out the chaos. Not in therapy rooms or medication alone, but on the road, in a van, with nothing but the open sky and the hum of the engine to keep me grounded.

This life—living simply, moving freely—has done more for me than I ever thought possible. It hasn’t "fixed" me (I don’t think anyone with BPD is looking for a quick fix), but it’s helped me manage the highs and lows in ways I couldn’t imagine while stuck in one place.

What It's Like Living with BPD

For those who don’t know, BPD isn’t just a bad day or feeling a bit moody. It’s intense, overwhelming, and often feels like you're at war with yourself. One moment, you’re on top of the world, buzzing with excitement or connection. The next, the slightest comment or thought can send you into a spiral of self-doubt, anger, or sadness. It's a constant push and pull, like your emotions have the volume turned up to max.

For years, I struggled to cope. I’d isolate myself for weeks, too anxious to face the world, drowning in my thoughts. I felt stuck—physically, emotionally, mentally. The walls closed in, and the more I tried to suppress the chaos, the louder it got.

Why Vanlife Was the Escape I Needed

When Tash and I decided to give vanlife a go, it wasn’t some grand plan to "find myself." It was more about breaking free from a life that didn’t fit anymore. But as the weeks turned into months on the road, I realised how much this lifestyle was giving me.

Solitude in Nature: There’s something about waking up in the middle of nowhere—fields stretching out around you, the sound of birds instead of traffic—that settles my mind. Nature doesn’t demand anything from me. It just is. And in that stillness, I’ve found moments of peace I never thought possible.

Freedom to Adapt: With BPD, routine can feel like a trap, but too much unpredictability can be just as hard. Living in a van gives me control over my environment. If one place feels too noisy, too crowded, or too triggering, I can drive somewhere else. It’s freedom, but on my terms.

A Simpler Life: There’s less "stuff" in vanlife—less clutter, fewer distractions, and fewer societal pressures. The focus shifts to essentials: where to park, what to eat, and how to make the most of the day ahead. Stripping life back to basics has been like pressing reset on my brain.

It’s Not Always Easy

That said, vanlife isn’t some magical cure-all. There are hard days. Days when the small space feels suffocating, or my emotions run wild and there’s no "escape room" to cool off. Impulsivity, one of the hallmarks of BPD, can also make decisions on the road tricky. Am I moving because I need to, or because I’m running from something?

Then there’s the challenge of relationships. Tash has been my rock through all of this, but being in a van means we’re in each other’s pockets 24/7. Communication becomes crucial, as does recognising when I need to step outside, breathe, and reset.

How Vanlife is Helping Me Heal

Despite the challenges, I’ve grown more in the last few months than in years before. The solitude has given me space to reflect, the freedom has helped me regain control, and the connection with nature has brought a calmness I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.

Vanlife hasn’t changed who I am—it’s helped me embrace it. The intensity of my emotions is still there, but I’ve learned to channel it into positive experiences. Watching a sunrise after a tough night or pulling over at an unexpected spot to marvel at a view—it’s those little moments that remind me I’m alive, and that life, despite its chaos, is worth it.

To Anyone Else with BPD...

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt stuck, overwhelmed, or like you’re at war with yourself, I want you to know you’re not alone. Vanlife might not be your answer, but the idea of creating a life that works for you—a life that gives you space, freedom, and room to grow—is something worth chasing.

For me, the road has become my therapy room, the van my safe space. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. And for the first time in a long time, that feels enough.

BPD is a part of me, but it doesn’t define me. Living on the road, I’ve found a way to manage the storm—not by fighting it, but by learning to ride the waves.

And who knows? Maybe the road ahead will have even more lessons to teach. For now, I’ll keep driving, keep exploring, and keep finding the freedom that comes with embracing life’s chaos.