For the unlucky few that have been keeping up to date with my recent tweets, you may have noticed that I have just returned from a short break, two nights only, on my own. 'So what?!' you may justifiably exclaim. Well, it is the first time I have been away since March 2011 where I both travelled on my own and then spent the time at the destination on my own. Since then, I've either travelled on my own and then met up with someone at the destination, or both travelled with someone and spent the time away with them. Or, in the first couple of years after March 2011, not travel anywhere, as was the easier option at the time.
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| Fabulous city |
For what happened in March 2011 was a living hell. I had the most severe panic attack in terms of both intensity and longevity and the nightmare carried on for months afterwards; I could barely leave the house, let alone enjoy my life to any degree. Ultimately, though, it was only after this incident that I got the help I needed and my life gradually changed for the better from there. I have written about all of this numerous times before and frankly it is what spurred me on to set up this blog in the first place.
So this trip, nearly six years on, was bound to be a test of how far I have come. I have never, and will never, forget what happened six years ago for all sorts of reasons, and understandably I have tried to never replicate the situation since, i.e. by going somewhere for a break on my own. Until now.
There are two parts of this blog; one is sharing how this latest trip went from an anxiety perspective and the second is to explain why I need to travel to places on my own in the first instance.
The first difference between this trip and the 2011 one was that there was no agenda this time. For the last trip, I was naively visiting a university campus down in Cornwall to speak to a course tutor about potentially quitting my job and doing a masters degree. Like I was ready for that. But the pressure of all of this going on in my head I think, ultimately, led me to have that panic attack; that and knowing I had eight hours of a train journey ahead of me which I could not escape from. And, of course, not having any tools from CBT or any other therapy to help me when panic struck. This trip, in 2017, was just a trip.
Except that it wasn't. I always knew it was a test and that in itself put pressure on. It was to Edinburgh, a city that I have always admired and found interesting. I'm not a city person but this place seemed to be my sort of place from what I'd read and heard about. So, ahead of my eight day trip to Ireland coming this May, I thought it would be a good idea to take a pre-trip to check how I would fare under these sort of circumstances. A four hour train journey, followed by over 48 hours in an unfamiliar, busy city on my own. What could possibly go wrong?
Naturally, I was nervous on the journey down, with some anticipatory anxiety beforehand and several thoughts of what happened in 2011 floating through my head. There was an hour of the journey, sort of in the middle, where I had to focus on my breathing to keep it together, to not let panic win, whilst trying to ignore physical 'tingles' that reminded me of the numbness I felt in my hands and feet back in the 2011 occurrence. I used CBT and distracted myself using pre-prepared materials to help me get through the journey; music, reading material, people watching, sugary foods, water and, again, breathing. I had made it.
I should point out at this juncture that even hotels are unfamiliar to me. I have only ever stayed in a handful of hotels and always with someone else, so checking into and staying at a hotel was daunting. I was prepared to ask the odd stupid question, although luckily I had booked somewhere with competent and helpful staff, which was also clean and comfortable, so I didn't feel particularly on edge.
The first big test was after this, when I went to a cafe for lunch. Regular blog viewers will know that one of the most significant outputs of my anxious past has been difficulty eating, particularly eating out. No-one, including myself, has ever got to the bottom of exactly why this has been the case, but chances are it has something to do with pressure. Lately, eating out has largely been incident free and I have been able to enjoy it much more and fortunately this continued. I deployed previously learnt CBT techniques and general things like ensuring I always ask for extra water so I have plenty of fluids to call upon if necessary. It worked. I ate lunch on my own in a cafe in the middle of Edinburgh. I managed to eat at restaurants and cafe's during the whole trip, and enjoy the food, something that I wouldn't have even had the guts (literally) to attempt a few years ago.
Another big key to success - a technique of CBT also, I may add - was advanced planning. I didn't turn up blind to what was on offer. I had planned my trip to the letter, probably far too meticulously compared to what most people would do for a two day trip away, but to say it helped would be an understatement. I went to the restaurants that I did because I knew they would have food I'd enjoy; perhaps in an ideal world I would have liked to have tried different cuisines, but I knew that was too risky. So I planned where to go and where they were in relation to my hotel. I carried the Edinburgh A to Z map everywhere with me and this helped hugely. I couldn't get lost. I didn't have to use my phone's sat-nav and thus drain my battery, leaving me to panic about "what if I need my phone in an emergency and can't use it?" I planned roughly how long it would take me to do the other things either side of lunch and dinner (various sightseeing activities; museums, walks and the like) and where to go and how to get there. This was coupled with ensuring I had things with me at all times as 'back-ups' and useful items to minimise stress, like water, reading material, warm clothing, snacks etc. I cannot emphasise enough how being organised in this way can help. Yes, it's important to keep an element of flexibility to proceedings too, in the event of bad weather or a place happening to be closed when you visit, but having a couple of back-up options is usually enough to prevent this from resulting in a major anxiety meltdown.
My sightseeing experience also confirmed what I had read about the city; it is definitely my sort of place, as far as cities go. I won't describe this as for the purposes of this blog it is irrelevant, but it did mean that I felt comfortable and welcomed which all helped with keeping anxiety at bay. I managed to visit numerous places and eat out five times, yes five times, without major incident, knowing I could deploy various appropriate techniques when I did feel a little edgy.
In 2011, the major panic actually happened on the journey back, somewhat ironically. I think I was keeping a lot of anxiety bottled in and I just couldn't contain it any more on the way back. So I knew that until I got back home unscathed the trip hadn't truly been a success. But, again, due to the various techniques I had learnt and generally being in a 'better place,' I got through it, as per my aforementioned description, unscathed. In hindsight I knew, in 2011, that although the meltdown happened on that journey back, I was a mess beforehand too. My eating out experience there was disastrous and the lack of sustenance was probably another reason for me having the panic attack in the first place. It was definitely a lack of general preparedness that cost me back then, too.
Thus showing how such amazingly simple things can make the difference between success and failure, or indeed, total breakdown.
Me 1 Anxiety 0.
So what of the second part of this blog? Why do I need to travel to places on my own? Why can't I go with someone? Well, first of all, it was important I did this on my own to prove I could. Being with someone would negate the whole point of going in the first place. But, had I purposely sought someone to go with, I still probably wouldn't have been successful. I have a few friends that would have been happy to come with me, but they couldn't afford either the time, money or both. Of course, most people when they (nearly - it hasn't happened yet!) hit 30 go away for short breaks with their partners, but as this won't ever happen to me (you can quote me on that), that isn't an option for me either. And as far as family is concerned, well there's only my parents and going away with them is neither practical nor a desire, to be frank. Again, I'm nearly 30. The only time you go away with your parents at 30 is if you're going away with both yours and your partner's parents on a larger family holiday which I can't do because I'M NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP. I may have mentioned this already.
The biggest challenge was seeing the numerous couples of similar age, give or take five years either direction, out and about with me on my tod. There's no denying it's not nice, especially knowing that the reason I am on my tod is 95% because of anxiety's legacy destroying my confidence and preventing me from making that connection with a girl in the first place. I know being single isn't all bad, indeed it has many advantages, but as I've blogged about before, it's the future that concerns me greatly. Going to a city like Edinburgh just rubbed that in my face a little.
The good thing is that I wasn't the only person I saw asking repeatedly for a 'table for one.' Do this where I live and you get confused looks, pity or people laughing at you. Do it in Edinburgh, in my short experience, you get welcomed and looked upon as normal. Indeed, I saw at least three other people eating alone amidst the hubbub of the restaurants I was in. What being alone also meant was that, in visiting a post-dinner pub on my first night there, I was able to get talking to a couple of very interesting people who were also ON THEIR OWN, enjoying the atmosphere. The fact that they were female of course was irrelevant...
The point was, I knew why I was there alone; other people will judge you but so what? Let them. They are only being human. They don't know anything about me and least of all they didn't know I was WINNING. Winning against anxiety which has held me back for nigh on 20 years. OK, so most people at the age of 30 may not consider a lone two night trip away to a city on the same island as significant and would probably identify it as quite sad, but I saw it as a huge achievement, emphasising again one positive of anxiety - not taking the small things for granted.
Now I look forward with trepidation but excitement to my trip to Ireland in early May. EIGHT days away this time. What could possibly go wrong?
Best wishes
Al
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