At the end of January, I decided to bite the bullet and book a trip somewhere. As I had posted before, I was getting back to my old ways of anxiety. I felt like I was going down a path that I did not like.
So, I looked around and decided to go to Ohio.
Well, you may be asking, “Why Ohio?”
The answer is simple. For the past few years, I have been part of a secret group in Facebook. We all come from different backgrounds, countries, and nationalities. It is a fun hide away from the world. We have a lot of things in common. A few of the members had met before. They all had a blast. I wanted to get up to one of the get together for a while, but timing was always an issue.
The latest meeting (I like to call them symposium) was going to take place right after my Winter Semester. I jumped at the opportunity and booked a trip. I also made plans to share a room with a friend who was pregnant (this will be important to remember).
I consulted with Dr. Redemption (though his name will soon be changed). I got my Xanax and off I went to Ohio.
The first part of the trip went well. I got on the freeway with my dad (he is a big trigger for anxiety) and made it to the airport okay. I boarded the plane with no anxiety. Everything was going great until someone said, “is there a doctor on the plane?” Someone was having medical problems. I made it through that incident just fine.
Ohio was a fucking blast. I had so much fun with everyone. I felt accepted. No one cared about my accent (OH MY GOD! I have an accent). It was nice to be with people who cursed and just loved to have fun. Lots of drinks, cards for humanity, food, and snow.
My return flight, however, was a total bust. I was scheduled to return on a Sunday morning. I didn’t sleep on Saturday because the flight was going to leave early. Getting a few hours of sleep made no sense. Well, that was a bad call on my part. My Xanax took forever to kick in. I was tired. The flight was going to be delayed until they could defrost the wings of the plane, the check line was busy and I thought I was going to miss the flight. It was a cluster fuck of bad events. I felt like an attack was coming. I almost jumped out and said, “get me the fuck out of here.”
The one thing that kept me focused was my kids. I had to get back to them no matter what…and I did!
I have to say, I feel like a failure for not getting things under control. At this point, I do not think I made any progress with my anxiety. In fact, I have this feeling that I went back a few steps.
I guess only time will tell…right?