Travel Anxiety and Bigfoot

I’ve been planning this recent trip to Southeast Asia since spring. It feels like it’s been forever that I’ve been excited to be able to travel solo, unencumbered for 10 weeks. I consider myself fortunate to be able to travel for an extended time on so many levels. I’m thankful for the time, the finances, the physical ability and not least, the people back home that allow me to impose on them as they take care of my responsibilities, and do it with a smile and shared excitement for my adventures.

That’s why, when it finally came to my departure day, I was completely stopped short when I found my anxiety growing past the point of being excited butterflies to the point of something more serious, feeling uncomfortably akin to a panic attack. I felt teary. I was anxious about choosing the smallest bag ever created to live out of for 10 weeks, anxious that my head was banging. I felt guilty leaving my soft, sweet cat, guilty about leaving my fully capable, grown son, anxious about the unknown. But mostly my anxiety seemed to be growing because I couldn’t place it. I had no idea what was causing it and I didn’t like that.

Anxiety is nothing new to me. It has not been part of my life for years, after simplifying our lives and moving to a smaller town. But when things were crazy, with losing my home to fire, family drama, relationship problems and deaths of loved ones hitting me all at the same time, I found myself growing anxious. But then I knew why. There was pressure and stress and loss of control over my situation. It made sense.

This made no sense. I found myself doubting my decision. Should I go? Did I make a mistake? 10 minutes into the four-hour transport to the Toronto Airport I texted my long-time friend Nancy. Sensing my angst, she called me right away. And in the way only the best of friends can, she made me laugh, was my cheerleader and biggest fan all in one. And she relayed a tale of a ridiculous trip fail having to do with a cabin alone in the woods and a Sasquatch, including the ride back to the city at 4 am. Suddenly, I was feeling better. Not perfect, but at least I no longer thought I’d vomit.

By the time I got to the airport, all sense of my anxiety was gone. I was excited. I was planning what I was going to do. I was looking forward to the warm air on my face as I stepped out of the Bangkok airport, the humidity, the shock of the sprawling city after my quiet day-to-day life. All the curry I would eat, the friends I would make, the beauty I would experience.

Just as my anxiety came, it was gone. I don’t really understand either the coming or the going. It certainly wasn’t my normal reaction to travel. I love change, embrace new places and experiences with passion. I’m hoping that was the worst this trip has to offer. Getting lost or missing a train will seem trivial now.

And if I do feel it creeping in, I only have to think of Bigfoot and Nancy to know I’m not alone in my crazy moments. It comes full circle. I have old and new friends I adore, a wonderful family rooting for me, and coworkers I am lucky enough to call friends. If that’s not enough to chill a girl out, what is?