By Hilary White, Pop Sugar
A few years ago, I found myself lying in a hospital bed in a small
beach town on the Southern coast of Haiti, hooked up to an IV. Trying to
use my basic French to figure out what was wrong with me, I came to the
panic-induced conclusion that I might die. A touch dramatic, I know.
Jumping to that conclusion is very typical of me, whether I'm in a
faraway country or sitting on my own living room couch. Chest discomfort
caused by indigestion after eating some pizza? I'm convinced I'm having
a heart attack. Sharp pain in my head? My mind immediately jumps to
"stroke."
[post_ads]As you can imagine, this irrational (yet entirely all-consuming)
anxiety makes being in foreign countries, far away from hospitals I'm
familiar with — and without insurance — panic-inducing. As someone
riddled with anxiety and prone to panic attacks, I of course know the
exact distance each hospital and urgent care is from my home and work
and could probably tell you how many minutes it takes to get to them. In
another country, especially one where I don't speak the language, the
fear of the unknown takes on an entirely different meaning for me. But
here's the thing: I refuse to let it stop me from traveling.
For the record, I didn't die in Haiti, nor was I about to. I had a
brush with what was essentially severe food poisoning (something I'm
unfortunately quite familiar with in the States, too). I was very
dehydrated, so I drank a lot of water and ate a ton of delicious
plantains and plain rice for a few days (not complaining one bit here!)
and lived to tell the tale. Because I was fine. However, convincing
someone with anxiety that they are "fine" is nearly impossible. Whether
it's when I'm 3.7 minutes away from the nearest medical facility and
completely unraveling inside the comfort of my own home in San
Francisco, or whether it's in Northern Thailand when I'm all alone and
puking my guts out in a hotel room (seriously, I get food poisoning a lot
— it's a thing), getting a handle on my anxiety is of the utmost
importance to me primarily because travel is so important to me, and I
have no intentions of letting my mental health stop me from doing what I
love.
So if you love to travel but suffer from anxiety, what do you do?
How do those who truly believe they will go down in a plane get on
their flight? If you break down in the middle of a crowded street in
Europe, shaking with panic and alone — what happens next?
It's easy in theory, harder in practice, but I believe the secret is
this simple: keep traveling. I know, as if we needed another reason to
plan a trip. But I mean it. I recognize that travel is a luxury, and I
am so grateful for every opportunity I have to experience it, no matter
what shape or form. So in response to your anxiety threatening to push
you down and keep you from doing what you love, you have to push back —
harder. Weeks leading up to a 15-day trip to Europe I'd been looking
forward to for months, my anxiety reached heights I never knew
existed. I was in the emergency room just days before we were scheduled
to depart, and for a moment I was convinced that I simply couldn't do
it. I couldn't get on that plane, I couldn't be far away from my comfort
zone, I couldn't. Except, I could. And I did.
[post_ads_2]
For the record, I didn't die in Haiti, nor was I about to. I had a
brush with what was essentially severe food poisoning (something I'm
unfortunately quite familiar with in the States, too). I was very
dehydrated, so I drank a lot of water and ate a ton of delicious
plantains and plain rice for a few days (not complaining one bit here!)
and lived to tell the tale. Because I was fine. However, convincing
someone with anxiety that they are "fine" is nearly impossible. Whether
it's when I'm 3.7 minutes away from the nearest medical facility and
completely unraveling inside the comfort of my own home in San
Francisco, or whether it's in Northern Thailand when I'm all alone and
puking my guts out in a hotel room (seriously, I get food poisoning a lot
— it's a thing), getting a handle on my anxiety is of the utmost
importance to me primarily because travel is so important to me, and I
have no intentions of letting my mental health stop me from doing what I
love.
So if you love to travel but suffer from anxiety, what do you do?
How do those who truly believe they will go down in a plane get on
their flight? If you break down in the middle of a crowded street in
Europe, shaking with panic and alone — what happens next?
It's easy in theory, harder in practice, but I believe the secret is
this simple: keep traveling. I know, as if we needed another reason to
plan a trip. But I mean it. I recognize that travel is a luxury, and I
am so grateful for every opportunity I have to experience it, no matter
what shape or form. So in response to your anxiety threatening to push
you down and keep you from doing what you love, you have to push back —
harder. Weeks leading up to a 15-day trip to Europe I'd been looking
forward to for months, my anxiety reached heights I never knew
existed. I was in the emergency room just days before we were scheduled
to depart, and for a moment I was convinced that I simply couldn't do
it. I couldn't get on that plane, I couldn't be far away from my comfort
zone, I couldn't. Except, I could. And I did.
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