Mental Health

Finding stories in airports.

I hate flying but love traveling. Flying is hard for me – its the constant, “did you pack everything” “what did you forget” “do you have your passport”. I packed and repacked my bag 4 times before a 4 day trip because I am absolutely terrified of forgetting something important and yet, I make it to the airport completely unscathed. Albeit 2 hours before boarding but at least I get to enjoy an ice cold Brooklyn lager and people watch.

I hate flying but love people watching. I love to make up stories about their lives and pretend I know exactly whats going to happen when they leave the discomfort of a stale, crowded airport. I pretend they’re going home to their loving wives/husbands/partners or that when they walk into the door at home their kids or dogs are clamoring at their feet trying to get their attention, because finally the person they love is home. I people watch because for a few moments it gets me out of my own head and transports me into a world that feels a little safer than the one I’m currently in.

I get to pretend like everything is ok for a short while. I’m ok. My head is a little clearer and my mind is open. Its easier to admit that my depression hasn’t returned and that the happiness I get from shutting the world out will last longer than a few hours.

I’m a constant work in progress and maintaining/powering through those darker days are getting easier but there are moments where I am sitting in the airport praying that things get better. I’m traveling and visiting parts of the country I’ve never experienced before, I should be happy and carefree yet I’m not. I’m sitting alone at a bar, drinking an ice cold beer and wondering if this will always be it for me.

The upside is know this will never be ‘it’ for me. I am loved, I matter, I am needed. I have a voice, a story, a reason and all of them are worthy.

I am worthy. 

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