I never thought I was an anxious person until I realized how much anxiety I carried with me. Maybe you can relate.
My travel delays to and from Tampa don’t make me anxious, but traveling to new or somewhat new places gives me a reason to take deep breaths and ground my thoughts.
Anxiety and many what-ifs are packed away in every nook and cranny of my mental suitcase. What if my Lyft driver is late? Is three hours before boarding enough time to get me to the airport? What if someone steals my assigned seat like they did last year? I don’t think I can be that nice again. What if my luggage gets lost? Heaven forbid I have to wear the same outfit every day. I would be mortified.
So here I am, sitting in a coffee shop in Tampa, anticipating my travel to Charlotte next week, when I read a text from American Airlines.
“We advise you to get to the airport early. The American Airlines counter is part of the huge Charlotte Airport renovation. Please use the curbside baggage check-in.”
I’m anxious about leaving Charlotte and haven’t even gotten there yet.
I remember the long and winding line to get into the Charlotte Airport for the She Speaks conference last year. I was thankful for a knowledgeable Lyft driver who navigated it well and got me there in plenty of time.
I’m not all that familiar with the Charlotte Airport. I remember the old-fashioned white rocking chairs lining the waiting areas – hundreds of rocking chairs with hundreds of people just rocking away. I wonder how many of them rocked away while holding anxiety. Navigating through the airport makes me … well, you know.
Last year, the TSA check-in was crazy, crowded, and ever-so-slow. The sweet mama of a toddler tossed her diaper bag, and an explosion of Cheerios covered the belt. She had a come-apart, which matched the come-apart her daughter was having. I got empathetically anxious watching them.
Of course, my departure was delayed hour by hour until the magical number of five delays got us up and flying the friendly skies. I wrote about this last year and included the story of the unsupervised wild children who thought the seats in the waiting area were horses upon which to play – let’s have a rodeo. Their parents ignored the arena and the antics. The eyes of other passengers gave away their thoughts, which wanted to corral the children and their parents. A dose of frustration only increases anxiety.
I am granddogsitting while my daughter and her family are in Italy and Greece for two weeks. I must leave before they arrive home so a neighbor will take over. Tami will take excellent care of Alex, but my granddog loves me, and I know he will miss Grandma Janet. He has me well-trained. He cries for me the minute I shut a door. I’m already dreading telling him goodbye. A little dread adds to my anxiety.
Chuck and I have this thing about being at the airport two hours before boarding time. We do not do “nick of time.” Tampa traffic is brutal. I tell people our house is 40 minutes from the airport at night and over an hour during the day.
Anxiety knocks on the door of my thinking, and I allow in the worry about forgetting to pack something important. Chuck reminds me that there are stores that sell whatever I forget. I will always remember having to replace a prescription I forgot when we arrived in Tampa.
Past anxiety adds layers to present anxiety.
When I packed for Tampa, I also packed for Charlotte. I counted pills, underwear, and contact lenses for 18 days and a few extras … just in case.
Also packed are several journals, writing stuff, a password book, notes for the She Speaks Conference and Taylor University Writer’s Conference, notes for the chapter I’m writing for an overcoming anthology that will be published later this year, and several books in case I have time to read. Yes, I packed my Kindle, but …
What is it about having to pack all the “just in case” stuff? I’m an overthinker, over-packer, and over-the-top anxiety holder. At my age, I’m not sure I can change any of those things.
I’m packed and (over)loaded. One thing I will never forget to pack is anxiety. It is the heaviest thing I carry. Wish me luck in the next few days. I have a feeling, as well as the anxiety, that I’m going to need it.
Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.