I need a vacation. I know I do, my boyfriend knows I do, I think everyone who knows me knows I do. Here’s the thing. For most people planning a vacation is easy, assuming of course they have the money. They choose the dates they want to go, decide where to go and then book it and they are off. For me, however, it so much more complicated then that.
Due to a shortage of funds and time (both on my part) my dear boyfriend (DBF) and I have been looking for 2-3 day getaways on groupon. The one he sent me last night was for a beautiful cabin in the woods near the Kawarthas. The price was great, there was a restaurant onsite, a jacuzzi, etc.. All great. So the next thing you do is go look up pictures of the rooms on their website, right? Wrong. You google the location of the nearest hospital and map out the fastest route and how long it would take to get there.
You see, that’s how my brain works. And it is also why planning a vacation, even just a weekend getaway, has become as complex as planning a summit of world leaders. Actually strike that, a summit is probably easier to plan. For every destination/hotel there are a litany of anxieties and phobias that need to be addressed.
- Niagara Falls? Most hotels are high rises. The windows don’t open. Can I take the stairs up and down from the room? If I have to take the elevator, how old is it? how fast is it?
- The Caribbean? Too hot. What’s the healthcare system like? Will I be covered under travel insurance with all my “pre-exhisting” conditions? I have to get on a plane.
- Las Vegas? See Niagara Falls and The Caribbean.
This is just a small list of land mines that dbf has been trying to navigate. Poor guy. All he wants to do is take me away for a few days LOL.
This is what I am like all the time. Even just driving around the city. I am mentally mapping out the fastest routes to the nearest hospital. I won’t let him drive in the express lanes, because if we get stuck in traffic we can’t get out.
The ridiculousness even reaches beyond just travel and cars. Elevators and being trapped in stairwells are big fears of mine. So much so, that last summer when my sister gave birth to my nephew, it took 2 separate trips, dbf to hold my hand and an Ambian just to get me up to her room to see them.
Exhausted just reading this? Imagine living it. Day in and day out this is how my brain works. It has gotten better since I agreed to go on anxiety medication, but it is by no means cured. The meds just make it less debilitating. No wonder my poor adrenals gave out. They are suppose to help with fight or flight…not fight, fight, fight.
Sure I could just go on vacation despite all my “issues”, but that brings all its own baggage. Fear of panic attack, upset stomach, being a right B***h.
So for now, dbf and I continue our search for a vacation that meets my exacting standards (read craziness). And I continue to work on my “issues”. He really is pretty patient…or a glutton for punishment. I haven’t decided which.