Enjoying Travel When You Have Anxiety

We could talk about breezy monochromatic summer outfits, or the re-introduction of orangey-red lips into my makeup arsenal, or the undying love a young woman can have for a pair of Celine sunglasses. These are all viable blog post options, but there's something completely different that has been holding my attention of late that I think may be more interesting to you. 

More interesting than Celine? It can't be possible!

Let's chat and see.

I've spent a lot of time looking back on 2019. Whether I’m picturing my Hatfield dorm room so as to purposely make myself sad (weird, I know), or recounting the story of when I sang I Want to Break Free on a coach bus in Northern Ireland for the millionth time, I’m constantly repeating the same question again and again in my head: How did I do it all?

If you know me personally, or have been reading this blog since its inception 5 years ago (or maybe both), you’ll know that I have anxiety in some way, shape or form (the word can be overused and lose its meaning at times). Quite often I find myself picturing past events in my life in which anxiety took over my body, or at least gave it a good try, and I can’t help but see the person who overcame those events as a stranger. I say things like, “I have no idea how I got through that”, yet here I am, clearly not still shaking in that public bathroom, airplane aisle seat, or the hundreds of other places I’ve been hit with a varying range of anxiety extremities. So I guess my question today is not that self-deprecating rhetorical question I sometimes can’t help but ask, but rather a question of how I not only survived, but thrived in my recent adventures abroad.

Uncertainty and physical health are the main sources of my anxiousness; Two very broad categories that just so  happen to be even more likely to occur while traveling. I pack accordingly and I take pro-active steps to help minimize triggers that I can somewhat control. Being extra early at airports became a necessity while I was away. I realized I need time to prepare myself for upcoming events that cause me stress, like flying. But here’s the thing, sometimes life happens, and there’s huge lineups at security and your gate is the furthest away from the entrance and there’s no time to go to the bathroom to calm yourself before flying. Cue the anxiety monster, right? It’s these situations that helped me develop calming strategies, anchored in the acceptance that I won’t always be in control of my surroundings. Knowing I can always turn inward, no matter where I am, and have a little check in with myself is reassuring. 

Headphones are a lifesaver, as is any song Alt-J has ever released, apparently. Braiding my hair is extremely calming, and I can’t leave my house without cooling peppermint oil. These little comforts make all the difference and allow me to transform anywhere I go into a safe space, whether it’s a seat on a busy train or a cot in an AirBnb. That’s the funny thing about anxiety, it’s crippling and scary and frustrating, but it also allows you to learn about a whole different side of your mind. I’ve found the more I approach these peculiar coping tactics with curiosity, I’m realizing my brain has trained itself to react a specific way to different stimuli. Without wanting to, my brain has learned to react with a flight response to physical pain and illness. But since I’ve become aware of this fact, I’ve actively trained myself to retreat back to a normal state, using everything from powerful scents, hand distracting activities, and ultra-alternative music. It’s when I approach my anxiety with frustration and impatience that causes it to build and worsen. 

The end of my recent trip to Croatia was a true test of self-control and stress-reducing brain power. A seemingly innocent hour long flight from Split to London-Gatwick was delayed over eight hours, leaving me trapped in what I imagine is the worlds smallest airport. There was virtually no food for sale besides the pricey duty-free options meant to be thoughtful Croatian gifts. One horrendously expensive bag of truffle chips, some sort of fig cake, and a block of Croatian cheese later, I was nauseous, tired, and angry. One functional outlet couldn’t work hard enough to charge everyone’s dying devices, and I’d chosen a particularly boring book to bring on vacation. By the time I finally got on the plane, I almost forgot that this was my first solo flying experience. I was heavy with exhaustion, gurgling with hunger and desperately trying to keep my anxiety at bay. The flight wouldn’t have been horrible in my books had I not been too frustrated to think rationally and turn inward to calm myself as I normally would. I got home safely and everything was perfectly fine in the end, but what I learned from that experience was that I was not doing myself any favors by getting frustrated with the uncertainty of the situation. It sucked, that is a fact, but it also could have been much worse. This is a day that makes me roll my eyes and chuckle when I recount, as you can probably imagine I’ve done countless times. I’m not traumatized by the thought of truffle chips, nor do I have a vendetta against Croatia. I love Croatia! My point is that I shouldn’t waste my energy looking back and doubting my ability to handle situations I’ve already experienced. How ridiculous does that sound? Instead I should be ready, whenever the moment arises, to tell myself that difficult minutes, hours, and days will pass, and I will come out the other side. Stop worrying! So what, your phone is dying and you can’t play solitaire to calm yourself, laugh at the trainability of your own mind, get on with it, and make a mental note to pack a deck of cards on your next trip.

Thanks for reading.

- Emily