Rule-ing My Anxiety: 5 Rules on Managing Travel Anxiety
Hi, my name is Edi, and I’m an anxious AF flyer.
I hate flying. Like … on planes. I HHHHHAAAATTTTTEEEEEE it. I’m not your average traveling millennial that can’t wait to touch down to post a picture of the window view from their flight with a basic caption about how traveling opens your chakra to the world. No. I’m clenching to whoever is sitting next to me — these days my husband and not so many strangers anymore — and have my face permanently attached to the window to verify that what the captain is saying about us having landed is 142% accurate.
Why do I hate it, you may — but probably not — be asking? I hate it because I AM NOT IN CONTROL OF THE SITUATION. Mix that in with a little bit of 9/11 PTSD because my whole family lives in NYC and genes that hold anxiety like a well-rounded bottom in some Levi’s, and you’ve got the perfect environment for sheer panic.
I got to experience some of this panic not once, but several times over the past week and a half. And even though I was scared a good 60% of my time in Utah, I learned a lot about my anxiety and how to create good rules around managing and ultimately kicking its booty.
First, some context…
Three months ago, Ben (not a stranger, but aforementioned husband) and I booked an eight-day vacation to beautiful but FAR as hell Salt Lake City, Utah. Why?! Because apparently, I hate myself. I told myself that if I wanted to travel I needed to get over this fear, and I began to do some research on planes and statistics and whatever. Then, the second the Boeing plane crashed. Then, they announced it was connected to the Lion Air crash. Then, they announced something was wrong with one of the plane’s SAFETY mechanisms.
I about lost all of my ISH. All that was left maintained that there was no way I was getting on a plane. Ben and my closest friends, however, assured me that I would still be safe. So, I walked off the ledge and back into my weighted blanket and the arms of my stuffed dolphin. Love you POOF POOF!
We take off, and everything is nice and lovely. Cart service starts and boom. Turbulence hits. So does my anxiety. For four hours, our trip to Salt Lake City mirrored the hydraulics of a Pimp My Ride vehicle. All I needed was for Xziibit to pop out and show me where the built-in waffle maker was.
Thankfully, and I guess obviously, we landed safely in Salt Lake. My nerves had taken off, though, and the transition into fun and relaxing vacation was less than desirable. I was on edge for a solid two days before things started to chill. Then we decided to go on an off-road excursion in Moab where we literally drove over MOUNTAINS of rock. Then my husband — almost became stranger from this experience — wanted to try an 11-mile hike in the middle of nowhere canyon/ravine/cliffs land that was rarely hiked by others. Then we flew back and went through a THUNDERSTORM. Anyway, I’m alive. So there’s that.
Okay, so now for the important and relevant mental health bloggy stuff. Throughout the week and now as I’m sitting comfortably and safely in the confines of my home, *nervous laughter* I learned a lot about what I need to do in order to calm my anxiety in the moment and live with it, in order to actually enjoy my life. Putting rules or boundaries around what I do and don’t do, helps create a sense of safety and control even if I don’t really have it. So, I’m sharing my “travel anxiety rules” with you, in hopes that you create similar devices to help work through, and with, your anxiety.
Day Time Flying
Our flight from Atlanta to Salt Lake was an evening flight. When we took off there was no sun. When we landed, there was no sun.
Hehehe, I love this scene. Anyway, I always book seats by the window. It allows me to confirm my surroundings. Which, granted, is just the air, but having a perspective on how the ride feels vs. what it actually looks like is SUPER helpful. I can see with my own irisis … irisi???? … EYEBALLS that we’re safe and the plane isn’t falling out of thin air. That’s why daytime flying is going to be my rule from now on. At night, all you can see are lights, and if you’re flying through No-Where USA, it’s hard to get a good idea of where the ground is or what it looks like when you’re going through turbulence.
Itinerary Required
When we went to Toronto for vacation last fall, Ben and I had a pretty solid plan for what we were doing every day. This was super helpful because we even planned downtime which allowed me to know that I would be able to mentally reset and focus on what we were trying to enjoy — each other and the sights <— awh!
For Utah, we did have an itinerary but it was looser and not as carefully researched. We ended up learning that some hikes were not for us (more on that later) and that we had more time allotted than activities planned. That caused some spontaneous decisions that led us to not research. This is where the off-road drive comes into play. While it was super fun — at the end, when it was over — I didn’t know what to expect. Therefore, before I knew it, we were driving over a mountain of rock in a little four-wheeler and the guide was instructing us on pivoting because someone had rolled over a few days previously.
If I get the info and I know what to expect, I can tell my anxiety to politely shove off because I know we’re A: safe and B: safe.
Spontaneity in the anxious mind needs to come from the regulated act. By that I mean, be spontaneous within the parameters you’ve set. Don’t be spontaneous in having any parameters. Otherwise, no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to relax.
Private Space and Self-Care
We usually like to book our travel through Air B&B #notsponsored. HAHAHAHAHA, I can’t even take my own joke seriously. #Influencer #Never
Since the hot time to go to Moab is in April, finding affordable and nice places to stay was a challenge. We ended up going with a room in-house through Air B&B. While we enjoyed our host and the location was super convenient I learned something about myself and space as it relates to travel. When it comes to chronic anxiety, your brain wants to assure you that you are in danger and you are not safe. While it’s important to reality test those thoughts, sometimes it’s more effective to avoid triggers and situations that will prompt that fight-or-flight response. That’s why I like to have my own hotel room or my own place when traveling. That way I don’t have to go through the mental battle of convincing myself we’re not going to get murdered and I’m guaranteed a space to meditate, walk around in my undies, or go about my routine at my own leisure without worrying about running into or sharing a space with others.
I also made sure to create some room for intentional self-care. Overbooking myself on vacation doesn’t always feel relaxing to me. Having a good mix of busy days and days where we’d turn in a little earlier helped me feel like I was relaxing and energizing as opposed to mimicking my lifestyle when I’m not on vacation. We took advantage of staying in a hotel the night between our Salt Lake and Moab portions of the trip. We soaked in an underground crater spring (which was awesome) and we got a couple’s massage too.
Stay Connected
It helped so much to stay connected to family and friends on this trip, especially with my flight anxiety. I call my parents right before every take-off so I can say “I love you”. They will typically pray over me and tell me to get over it — it’s a Hispanic thing — and I can rest easy knowing that IF something did happen, they knew how much I cared about them.
My best friend also checked in on me and asked me about my flights. She was super validating and empathetic when I told her both trips were turbulent and commented on the rarity of those situations and how glad she was that I was able to get through both flights without running around on the plane like a crazy person. Staying connected to my friends and family kept me grounded, reminded me that life continues to go on, and that travel is a normal part of living life.
Decide on Enough
This is probably the BIGGEST rule I acknowledged for myself on this trip. Earlier I mentioned an 11-mile hike that Ben wanted to go on. In all fairness, he wanted to go because I had the hope of seeing a slot canyon. The only one in Moab was in Canyonlands National Park at the very end of this trail. I was apprehensive from the start. It was the last big thing we were going to do. It wasn’t well-planned or researched because we decided the night before to do it, and I was already pretty emotionally drained from managing and working through my anxiety all week.
But I wanted to be “brave,” so we started the hike. About 1.5 miles in, we approached a part of the trail where you had to work your way down to a valley by walking alongside a cliff. I felt like I had had enough, but I kept pushing through because I could tell Ben was eager to continue. I slipped on a rock and fell onto it and immediately started crying. I felt so freaking helpless. I was angry at Ben and at myself. He encouraged us to stop and head back.
At first, I was pissed, but then I started to applaud myself for even trying in the first place. Sometimes, it’s good to have limits on how hard you push yourself to work through mental health issues. In session, I often tell clients that in order to dive deep into the hard stuff, we need to create structure and we need to take breaks.
I needed a break. I had flown across the country, hiked for miles long, and climbed thousands of feet high. I did a lot and conquered a lot. Not completing this hike doesn’t take that away. So by the end of the hike back, I was joking with my husband that I wasn’t designed to hike like this but to eat beans and rice.
Having some humor helped me realize, it wasn’t that serious and I wasn’t in danger.
So, that’s what I learned about my anxiety and traveling. We’re going to continue to travel and fly because we want to see the world. I know now that those experiences are going to need some buffers for my anxiety and that’s okay.