Airports Make Me Want to Poo

I’m leaving for vacation in about a week, I’ll be flying home to visit family and friends. And I just found this out 3 days ago. See, I’m the kind of anal retentive person that likes to have plenty of advance time, so I can demonstrate the appropriate amount of stress and anxiety before leaving. I wanted to wait and go towards the middle of the month – but it ended up being cheaper if I leave next week. Like $300 cheaper – crazy, huh? So now I am scrambling to make arrangements for my pets and buy all the things I’ll need and pay all my bills before I leave.

I should probably put it out there right away that I HATE flying. I have to take an abnormal amount of Xanax just to get through the whole ordeal. And the plane really isn’t the worst part. It’s the airport. Since I live in western Kansas, I’m only a few hours away from Denver so that’s the airport I fly out of. And yeah – it’s enormous. There are people everywhere you turn. The food is greasy, bottles of water cost $8, and I can barely figure out how to flush the fancy toilets.  It’s crazy and hectic; there are kids running and screaming, people talking, intercoms buzzing, people rushing in every direction, signs and lights everywhere, unbelievably long lines to wait in ….Jesus, I’m getting the shit fits just thinking about it. (When I get really nervous or anxious, I have to poo. I don’t know why, it’s always been that way. I call them “shit fits”. And I know you totally wanted to hear about that – so you’re welcome.)

I didn’t used to mind crowded public places, but now I’m totally afraid of them. I used to be a real social butterfly, but since this anxiety has reared its ugly head, I have had trouble being around a lot of people at once. I’m totally paranoid – and there is a reason behind that. Over a year ago, I was attacked outside my babysitter’s home after dropping off Peanut. A man ran at me from behind the house and held a knife to my throat, and forced me into my car. He tried to drive off with me but I put up a helluva fight, and escaped out the passenger door and ran inside before he could get us out of the driveway. I am so glad to be alive, and thankful that my mind worked quick enough to get me out of danger before it was too late. But they never caught that dude, and to this day I worry about the fact that he is still out there somewhere.  (DUN DUN DUNNN!)

But if that jerkwad were to come after me again, I would be ready. I carry mace with me now, as well as a taser. It’s so cute; it’s the size of a pager, hot pink – and 400,000 volts. So watch out, unknown assailant. I will tase you right in the junk.

So anyway, that experience taught me to be paranoid in public places. I know from experience how quick an attack or a kidnapping can happen – so I’m paranoid that someone will run up and grab Peanut before I can stop them. It’s really a crippling fear, so in public places I make Peanut hold my hand the entire time. She can’t get more than 3 feet away from me, and if she is out of my sight for even a second I’ll have a coronary.

So this year I am trying something new. I’m going to put all my effort into not freaking out. I’m gonna tell that anxiety to kiss my ass, and march through that airport like I own the place. I’m determined to have a good vacation, from beginning to end. I’m not going to let my anxiety continue to ruin my life. I’m going to face my fears and force myself to attend as many public venues as possible. Sounds fun, right?

*Gulp*

I’m scared. Wish me luck.