Anxiety

The Perfect Holiday Getaway

I’m already anxious…

We don’t leave town for 6 more days and the feeling is already bubbling in the pit of my stomach and it’s in the tightness of my chest through my every breath. 

My logical brain tells me it’s just a little unrest; my concern is likely not necessary or real. I also know that I’ve been through this ‘feeling’ before and I’ve always come out on the other side. 

But my illogical brain spirals. What if I feel like this all week? What if it makes it hard to get up and do all the things I need to do to prepare for our trip? What if I have another panic attack on the plane? What if this trip doesn’t go well? What if someone else gets sick? What if…

Maybe you need some background. Pretty well, September through January of 2022, someone in our family has been sick. We contracted whatever and passed it around and around and it ruined moods, plans, carpets, etc. By December, I was honestly on my last little fuse. 

And then my husband invited me to come along on his business trip for his company holiday party in Chicago. We arranged for the best care for our children, I found some special new clothes, I had my nails done, I was ready for a couple days of US!! And two days before we left, our eldest vomited. 

I spent the next two days caring for him, cleaning EVERYTHING, packing for everyone for the trip we still thought we’d be on, and arranging everything just-so (mostly in order to distract myself) and easily getting in 18,000+ steps in each day. I was more exhausted and freaked out than ever. 

Zach was convinced we were in the clear since our other two boys had had the bug a month before. And I conceded, because I really, really wanted a break…. But as we drove to the airport and I was finally sitting down, those all too familiar feelings of anxiety started to rise in my belly. I started to feel nauseous and a little hot and pretty uncomfortable. 

We did all the airport things and Zach started to get some work done while we waited for our flight. We ordered a couple beers. I pretended to be chill. 

Once in the air, our quick flight was just fine; I read my book and things seemed o.k. The pilot came over the speaker announcing our descent into CHI town, and then it wasn’t just fine. 

I got really, really hot and felt a little suffocated. I looked over at Zach who was confused by my ‘sudden’ unrest. 

“I’m so hot, I think I might pass out,” I said as I was stripping off my sweater. 

“You’re not going to pass out,” he breezily reassured me. 

And just like that, the feeling inside me exploded and I struggled to catch my breath. He held on to my arm and tried to get me to look him in his eyes and said something like, You’re ok. You’re going to be fine. You won’t pass out. I’m not sure exactly what he said; the ringing in my ears was so loud I couldn’t hear his voice. 

And then I passed out. 

I came-to pretty quickly, and then I laid my head on his arm and just focused on breathing ‘normally’ and ‘resting’.

We exited the plane 20 minutes later and grabbed an Uber to our hotel. I wasn’t feeling normal, my stomach was still uneasy, but it felt like the dread – that awful feeling – was past me. 

The hotel was the most glamorous he’s ever taken me to, and I instantly felt sad. 

He was starving since we hadn’t had dinner, so I convinced him to take us down to the bar regardless of my state. He grabbed a burger and a beer and I sipped on club soda and ate three french fries as best I could. 

We went straight to bed and I, of course, woke in the middle of the night with a couple rounds of vomiting and diarrhea; the things I was most worried about and feared happening actually happened. Only that was not the end. When we checked in with my in laws the next morning, we learned that the other two of our three kids were also up all night getting sick. 

Zach and I rented a car the next day and drove home. What a romantic holiday getaway….

So here we are, days away from a trip of a lifetime, and I’m already fearful. Do bad things just have to happen to me? You know, God must think I’m super duper strong, and all that bologna, because God doesn’t give people more than they can handle… 

No, neither of those things are true. 

I’m not sure where I read this, but an author way smarter than me posed the perfect question:  What if… you let anxiety be your wisdom?

What if anxiety was actually our gut instinct, a perfectly natural reaction. What if we thought of it as a way to access our innermost being where we discover an understanding of what we need and what we want and what our purpose may be. What if we just flip switched our view of anxiety not as something that hinders us, but as something that tells us more. All of a sudden so many things would be possible! And the suffering of anxiety – which is significant – would be less.

Of course we need to manage it, but we can also honor it.

Anxiety is all about will – it’s the thing that happens to us when we believe that we can, and then we can’t, control the future. 

I release that silly thought! I know I am not in control. I also know that I am not a puppet, so I don’t have to fear a greater power controlling some predetermined path for me. Shit just happens. We are imperfect human beings who are destined to get sick and mess up and fall short and we have to work through hard things. 

And the greatest of us have surrounded ourselves with people who are understanding, compassionate, and ready to tackle all-the-things alongside us. With our people with us, who can be against us?

I only hope that I remember all this when something more serious comes my way… And also in 6 days when I’m on a plane, again. 

A Note: 

The morning we left that glorious hotel that I experienced only in an unsettling kind of way, I stepped into their quick service kitchen for a club soda. I noticed these beautiful brownies and picked up a couple thinking well maybe I’d get to enjoy this one little thing from this silly experience when I’m feeling better. So, I brought them home and by the end of the week the bug had been through all five of us and our appetites came back and we did get to enjoy them. They were worth it.