Whenever I travel my anxiety and it’s counterpart, depression, is always the freaking worst. You see, anxiety for me, occurs in the wake of new things, new events, new places, new experiences.
It’s like, the greater the experience or reward, the deeper the anxiety is…at least at the beginning. At least until I adjust.
And when travelling, when everyday I find myself in a new place, in a new bed, I’m a little off. I need a little time to make that readjustment, I guess. Despite the fact that I’m the happiest person on earth to be spending the day with my sister and one of my best friends, there’s still that lingering anxiety in the background.
It’s voice is like an echo, I can hear it, but it’s still off in the distance. It’s there, and it’s here with me, but it’s like, it’s travelling it’s own pace. And I’m a little worried, to be quite honest, that it’s going to sneak up on me. Even though that echo is coming from so far away.
And so my sister, she looks at me and asks me, you know, if I’m tired. And yah, I am tired. I’m tired of this tormenting little shit following me around. Who let anxiety on that plane? Did depression sit on someone’s lap on the way over, from Newfoundland to Halifax.
Who let those guys on? I bet they never paid for their seat. No, they came over on the backs of us who suffer. Unfair.
And that’s the thing about mental health. It goes where you go. You can’t escape it. It’s a part of who you are. Is it everything you are? Well, no. Is it always there? Again, no.
It wasn’t there while I enjoyed the delicious pasta I shared with my sister at The Bicycle Thief.
It wasn’t there during the laughter, and the hugs and the warmth of my sister holding my hand today. Anxiety is no match for that. Neither is depression. At least not today. Not right now.
And there is so, so much more to me than anxiety, or depression.
And I love to travel and so I will continue to do so. I’m not going to stop doing anything because that’s what my anxiety wants me to do.
If it were up to my anxiety I would be isolated and I wouldn’t leave my house.
And you see, when you stop doing things, you feed that little shit that is anxiety. You give it that upper edge over you. And no ones got time for that. At least, I don’t. And I think you don’t either.
So, I’m going to have a shower and wash this travelling anxiety off my skin. And I’m going to do my hair and my makeup. And I’m going to have a wonderful night. Because it’s not so often anymore that I get to spend time with my other half, my sister, my very best friend.
And so, anxiety. And so depression. If you want to join us, you’re invited along. Because I’m sick of fighting with you. Pull up a seat and listen to my laughter.