We think we want things to be real, but does anyone really want to read about an anxious travel writer? I’m not sure they do and so recently I haven’t actually lied, as one segment of my head adores our campervan travels, but there is a dark wedge of my brain I have kept to myself.
It was during our last trip to France that I noticed how contradictory I was feeling. While relishing exploring the beautiful country in our campervan I was also secretly doom-mongering. Anything that could go wrong [and probably wouldn’t] spun around and around in my head, driving my anxiety levels through the roof. My brain convinced itself it knew the future and it was bleak!
At first I tried ignoring my anxious feelings thinking that would make them go away. This didn’t work! Changing tack, I gave my anxiety some attention. This helped me see how my fears were familiar from our trip to Germany last year. I had muddled along then but this time my anxiety levels were higher and overwhelming and going home seemed the only answer!
Anxiety can sound trivial but it multiplies, feeding on itself. It starts in my brain but very quickly affects my whole body. Always the writer, my notes from the time describe the physical symptoms of a tight chest, nausea and fast and shallow breathing. And all because my head was busy imagining the worst things that might never happen.
Healing begins with sharing
I struggled to understand why I would be anxious when I was living the dream and travelling with my partner in our campervan. I felt guilty and stupid for having these negative feelings. I did not want to let anxiety about tomorrow spoil our trip and I thought the best thing was to keep my anxiety to myself, keep calm and carry on.
It took a few weeks to admit to my partner in campervanning how I was feeling. He is a caring individual and didn’t tell me I was being ridiculous. Being open about my anxious feelings shone a light on them, revealing the deceit they wallowed in. Saying them out loud helped me see how my anxiety was so clever it could fool me into thinking my imagined threats were real. It helped me to engage the rational side of my brain, calm my adrenaline-fuelled body and see that these worst-case-scenarios were fantasies. To even imagine I could predict the future was an illusion!
His caring approach didn’t make the anxiety go away but it helped. He recognised how difficult it was for me to admit that something in my brain was broken. There were no visible wounds to soothe but he gave me the love and patience I needed. Sympathy and talking were positive but no cure, so together we came up with a few strategies to ease my anxiety and be able to continue our holiday.
Small Steps
Firstly, we slowed down our tour, staying in one place for longer so that I could settle in, feel at ease and work at re-booting my brain. We travelled short distances on the days that we moved too and this relaxed approach to our trip worked well for us both.
As well as driving less, I lived at a slower pace. We had no deadlines and were footloose and it wasn’t necessary to rush to see a particular attraction or place. We adopted a calm approach to our days, taking a leisurely breakfast, lunch and evening meal when we would talk and laugh together. We stayed away from large towns and cities, choosing countryside locations where we were surrounded by nature.
Daily exercise has always been important for my wellbeing and the French countryside is perfect for the active holidays we enjoy. We walked or cycled, taking time to stop to watch wildlife, identify flowers or read about the local history of the village we were in. I focussed on joyful things that made me smile.
Strange as it seems, I also made time to fret, allowing an early evening worry-time slot. I used this to write down all the things I was anxious about and how I was feeling. I practiced some controlled breathing and worked at being more accepting of uncertainty. I was mindful of my anxious and racing thoughts and the accompanying rush of adrenaline and allowed them to have their moment without a fight. I used the My Possible Self app to give some structure to this time.
After a few days I would recognise the doom-laden thoughts as soon as they popped into my head. I would acknowledge these thoughts and sing, ‘Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk to you again.’ Sometimes this enabled me to see the dishonesty of my fears and stop the out-of-control downward spiral in its tracks. Whether cycling, cooking or pottering around the campsite, The Sound of Silence became my holiday tune!
I worked at being nice to myself and tried to accept that everyone has something that is hard to do. I occasionally felt positive that I would once again be an anxious-free traveller.
Letting in the light
This anxiety has crept up on me since the Covid-19 lockdowns. Covid-19 proved to all us naysayers that bad things can be just around the corner. The pandemic led to many changes and for me having to stay at home and worry about catching a potentially deadly bug was enough to trigger anxiety.
Although I am pleased that we are much more open about mental health issues in the UK than we used to, I am not convinced anyone wants to open their motorhome or campervan magazine and read travel articles peppered with mental health worries. So my articles dwell on the light, rather than the daily grind. Sharing in this blog post is a big step, so please be kind.
I don’t want to be the person that is ruining my own day, I know how few I have left! I do want to reduce my anxiety levels and become ME again and I am hopeful I can do that … so watch this space.
A quick note on resources: As well as the My Possible Self app I have worked through Joshua Feltcher’s book Anxiety: Practical About Panic and I signed up for his Anxiety Josh newsletters, the NHS Every Mind Matters emails and The Friendly Mind.
Back on the road again 