California

My ex-girlfriend, Lindsey, and I started dating in 2007 and we broke up in 2009; I was 24 when we met and 26 when she left. In those two years, I made my way to places I had not been able to drive to in years. I drove to BWI to pick Lindsey up from the airport, Ellicott City and Columbia for the first time in years, Crofton to see Holly's house, Elkridge for Holly's wedding, Annapolis to have dinner with Lindsey's best friend, over the Bay Bridge, and the weekend before we broke up to D.C. to hang out on Dupont Circle. These were triumphs for me, but to her they were simply small, frustrating steps.

Lindsey was great for my traveling because she really pushed me to go places. And I wanted to do things with her and go places because I loved her and I wanted to experience new things with her. If we had plans to go somewhere and I woke up and made excuses for why we shouldn't go, she told me we were going anyway and to stop making excuses. I will forever be grateful to her for that.

But, as much as she pushed me, she wasn't very understanding. She just couldn't get that part of me. It frustrated her almost as much as it frustrated and still frustrates me. Lindsey's family lives in California and she dreamed of the two of us starting a life together in San Francisco and spending holidays with her parents, brothers and their wives and children. I dreamed of that, too. She constantly reminded me that I was the only reason she was still in Maryland.

I knew how much Lindsey wanted to be in California, so we planned on spending Christmas 2009 with my family in Maryland and then moving to the west coast in January 2010. I told her if I couldn't make it, I still wanted her to go. I knew I wasn't going to be ready for that, but I hoped that the anxiety of her being so far away combined with home much I missed her would be enough to push me to go. She left me in early June 2009, so we never got to find out if it would have been enough.

For a long time after we broke up, I wondered if I didn't have any anxiety and if I would have moved to California with her the first year after we were together like she wanted to, if we would still be together. This is a question that haunted me for a long time, but it's also a question that can't be answered because that would mean I would be a different person.

When Lindsey left, I was more perpetually sad than I had ever been in my life. A big part of my anxiety is needing to be in control (needing to drive and not be a passenger, not using public transportation of any kind, etc.) and Lindsey leaving me took away all my control of my life. I loved her more than I ever thought I could love another person and she left me and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no amount of will or work that would bring her back to me. That was something I had a hard time grasping.

The months following her leaving me, I was anxious but I didn't have panic attacks all the time or anything. I just felt like I was existing somewhere right below the panic attack level; I was nowhere near calm. I stopped trying to travel anywhere. I just wanted to get through the day without being pushed to the panic attack level. I didn't care if I could drive to Ocean City or Philly or Salisbury or anywhere because I was alone and I didn't have anyone I wanted to travel for or with.

It's been almost two years since Linsey and I broke up and I now want to travel for myself so I don't miss my life. She and I saw each other for the first time since she left about a month ago. One thing she said to me was that she couldn't believe I didn't make it further while we were together. She doesn't think I will ever make it to California. One day, I'm going to go there with a beautiful woman and I'm going to call Lindsey just to let her know that I made it. One day...

Spring and Summer Trips

I grew up going to Ocean City and the Delaware beaches, and I went to college in Salisbury, which is about 30 miles from the beach. I worked in Ocean City for three years while in college, and sometimes I drove to the beach from Salisbury during the off season to sit in the sand and write. The sound of the waves crashing always made me write better than if I were sitting at a Dunkin Donuts in Salisbury listening to people have conversation. The water was just enough to cover the silence but not distract me, sort of like having a fan on while you sleep. I haven't heard that sound or been on a beach or a boardwalk in almost six years. I hope to change that this summer. These are my specific traveling goals for this spring and summer:

I want to drive on Route 1 through Delaware with Gia and as soon as I get to the closest beach, I want to get out and let her see the ocean and run on the beach. I want to get in the water and sit in the sand.

Ocean City to eat at the Bayside Skillet and see if I know anyone working there, see the beach, walk on the boardwalk, and go on some water slides. Maybe Jolly Roger? Cindy, you in?

Rehoboth to eat at Nicola Pizza, have a few beers at the Frog Pond, and go to a gay store and buy some bumper stickers for my car.

Philadelphia to visit Cindy and Julie (if she's still there) and eat a cheesesteak and take a picture on that LOVE statue (for lack of a better word) that I've seen in pictures but not in real life.

Go on a flight to Philly with my dad when he buys the tickets.

Kent Manor Inn for brunch with Misty, which would mean going over the Bay Bridge.

Downtown Frederick to check out the shops with Erin and Gia.

I want to go to Annapolis and D.C. often so that these drives feel more like driving to Howard County does to me now. I have made it to these places, but I still hesitate when someone asks me to go to either; I don't want to do that anymore. I want to take Gia to the dog beach in Annapolis and spend a few weekends with Misty. In D.C., I want to hang out at DuPont Circle and go to Town and all the other gay bars I've heard of.

I would like to try the: lightrail, metro, bus, train, etc.

Any other suggestions for trips I should try or trips anyone wants to accompany me on?

Match.com

I'm not embarrassed to admit that I was on match.com. It's hard for anyone to meet someone whether they are gay, straight or bi, but I do sometimes think it's harder to meet someone of the same sex because most people tend to spend their time around more straight people than gay people. I am one of those people, and  most people also assume that I am straight. Because of these facts and because I'm sort of shy about approaching women, especially in a non-gay environment, I find it hard to meet people. I was recently given the advice that the best thing you can do it to put yourself out there into the world in every way that you can because you never know how and when you could possibly meet someone. I decided to do just that.

I joined match.com at the end of December for one month, which expired, and then I signed up for another month, which expired last week. While browsing match, I found that there were many attractive, educated girls with interesting stories, but all the ones I seemed to like lived in Virginia or Delaware or even further. I decided that I wouldn't let distance stop me from at least messaging with girls; I would decide if I liked them enough to meet them then figure out how.

At the beginning of February, I met a girl who lives in Arlington, VA. I knew I was going to like her before I met her, and that's exactly what happened. We met and connected and liked each other. The first time we met, she came to Baltimore, which is about an hour and a half drive from Arlington, and we had dinner then went out. Our first date lasted 24 hours and it was amazing. The next time we hung out, she drove to my apartment in Towson, which again took her about an hour and a half. She had driven to me twice and she wanted me to come to her the next weekend. I mapquested directions to Arlington, VA hourly for days. I kept changing the routes hoping something would look easy to me, but all I saw were bridges, tunnels, 495, and me having a panic attack. She kept asking me when I could be there because she wanted to make dinner reservations and find a museum for us to go to and figure out when we could meet up with her friends. The thought of all of this was just too much for me and made me not want to go, but I liked her and wanted to see her. But, that wasn't enough. I ended up telling her that driving to Arlington made me anxious and, even though she didn't understand, she told me she would come to me again that weekend. Something changed that weekend and she and I haven't seen each other since. I'm not sure if things would have been different if I could have driven to Arlington.

I met a few girls on match after Arlington girl, but I didn't feel a connection to any of them. My account has since expired and I'm taking an online dating break, but I have one more girl to meet. She works in D.C. and was living in the city, but is temporarily living in Maryland near College Park. She doesn't have a car and plans to move back to D.C. soon. I drove to College Park about a year ago for work, so I know I can make it there. I may get anxious, but I know I can do it. I've already mapquested it a few times and I know I will do all that I can to avoid 495 because that is one highway that makes my heart beat fast and my hands shake. She may borrow a car and meet me in the middle, but if not, I will drive to College Park to meet her because I think I'm going to like this one :)

Patient Refused Contrast

In November, I went to the GYN and she referred me to get an ultrasound because she suspected I had cysts on my ovaries. Thanksgiving was right around the corner then Christmas and finishing up my classes for the semester, so I decided to wait until the new year to get my ultrasound. I made an appointment in January and had my first ultrasound done. I actually remained very calm during the whole process. About two weeks later, I received a call from my doctor telling me that I lots of cysts or masses on one ovary and two large ones on the other, so she wanted me to get another ultrasound. After the second ultrasound, the smaller cysts had disappeared but the two large ones were still there. She told me I could go straight to surgery and have them removed because they were quite large or I could get an MRI; I went with the latter.

I was anxious about the MRI, but I knew it would be better than surgery. When I received the form in the mail from my doctor, I noticed that she had checked with and without contrast. I didn't know what that meant, so I googled it. I started reading all these terrible stories about things that the contrast did to people like vomiting and having to go to the hospital and arms being numb for extended periods of time, etc. All of this freaked me out. Besides not being able to drive far distances, another anxiety point for me is taking any kind of medicine or putting any substance into my body. I drank a little bit of Children's Motrin when I had one of my wisdom teeth removed, but that's the only medicine I've taken in about six years. A doctor prescribed me Lexapro when I was 22 and I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life, so I've avoided taking medicine since. I knew if I let someone inject dye into my veins, I would feel like I had no control of what it would do to my body and I wouldn't be able to get it it. But, I also knew that I should get the dye just in case the masses were tumors because it would help highlight them.

On the day of my appointment, I was anxious. I couldn't drink the calming tea I usually drank on anxious days because I was only supposed to have clear liquids. I made myself a cup with two teabags and took it in the car with me for after my appointment. My mom met me there. I know I'm 28 and shouldn't need my mom for something like an MRI, but I did and I do. It was pouring down rain, which made the 7 minute drive more like 12. I was a few minutes late. When I got there, my mom was sitting on a bench with all of her work stuff out prepared to be waiting for a while. I signed in and filled out all the forms except for the one that gave them permission to inject the contrast with all the possible risks, such as death. I hid that one under the others and didn't let my mom see that I didn't sign it.

A pretty girl with dark hair who was probably a year or two younger than me came out to get me. She asked me about 15 questions in less than a minute: Do I have anything metal in my body; do I have diabetes; is there any chance I am pregnant, etc...I can't remember most of them. I answered no to every single one. I handed her my paperwork and told her I hadn't signed the contrast form. She told me someone would come out to answer my questions. A man a few years older than me came out and asked me if I had any questions. I told him I wasn't comfortable with the contrast and he said I had the right to refuse it but it would not be a full study without it. I told him that I didn't think I could handle that today. He wrote really big on my file: "Patient Refused Contrast."

The girl came back to lead me into the room. The door had a caution sign on it because of the radiation; it was bigger than a normal door and it reminded me of the freezer and refrigerator doors at restaurants. It was wide and heavy. I always feared I would get trapped in the freezer at my old serving job, so I would put something in front of it to hold it open. The MRI door closed behind me.

My arms and legs were shaking a little bit as I got closer to the machine. The machine itself was also a lot bigger than I imagined. I felt like I was in an episode of "Little People Big World" because everything in the room seemed so much bigger than me. The girl asked me if I was going to be okay. I asked her if I could come out if I freaked out inside of the tube. She said all I had to do was squeeze the panic ball she gave me. I got up in the table and she positioned me right in the center. She pushed me into the tube gradually and gave me headphones to distract me from the noise. Finally, I was all the way inside the narrow tube listening to faint music through the headphones. My entire body was inside except for my feet dangling on the edge of the table. I wiggled my toes every few minutes just to reassure myself that I could still move; I tried to keep the rest of my body still so my dr. could see as much as possible without the contrast. I wished my head could have been out of the tube. The machine started making really loud noises and then would stop and the lady taking the pictures would say something to me like "You're doing great" or "it's about to get loud again."

I counted the songs I had listened to, counted backwards from 100 in my head,  counted the small screws inside the tube and anything else I could make out to be an object. Counting has always decreased my anxiety because it takes my mind off of what's going on. There were a couple times in the tube when I thought I may have to squeeze the panic ball and get out, but I told myself to just hold on for one more song. And I did just that. I made it to the end and didn't have to come out. I was happy with myself that I made it through that but disappointed that I didn't have a full study and may still have to wonder what's really wrong. And my file will always say, "Patient Refused Constrast."

Little Background

Before I start blogging every day, I feel like I need to provide a little background information. Before I went to college, I could go anywhere and do anything; I didn't have anxiety about anything that I recall. One night during the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college that all changed. I was about two and a half hours away from school and home when I had my first panic attack (which I didn't have words for until about four years later).

I was in the passenger seat of a car with Holly, a girl I thought I loved at the time, and all the sudden I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. I felt far away from my bags at her house and my car and school and my home and even far from the Wal-Mart we were driving to. My thoughts were fuzzy and nothing seemed real. My heart started beating fast and when I looked down I could see it moving the skin on my chest. I tried to grab my thighs with my hands, but they were shaking too much to clutch anything. I kept blinking and shaking my head to try to focus my thoughts , but it didn't help. My whole body was shaking and pounding, my feet were sweating, and I couldn't think straight. I felt like I wasn't inside my head anymore.

That night was the beginning of a long road with my anxiety and agoraphobia. My arms started getting numb randomly, I started having panic attacks in classrooms, on highways, in crowded places, anytime I was too far from my car, if I wasn't driving, when I was alone, when I was far from school or home, etc...The list goes on. Soon after I started having these panic attacks, I realized what was causing them and began avoiding any situation that may cause me to have one. I dropped classes I couldn't sit in and because of that I graduated college late; I wouldn't be a passenger in a car with anyone; I didn't go to crowded places, drive on highways, or drive anywhere far from home. By the time I graduated college, I couldn't drive further than ten miles from my home. That was also when I decided that something needed to change.

I started reading every book I could find on agoraphobia and anxiety and how to deal with the symptoms of both to try to get my life back. I was 22 years old when I started that journey. I tried medicine, therapy, acupuncture, hypnosis, EMDR, changing my diet, working out, etc. I spent any free time I had just driving as far as I could one way then turning around going as far as I could the other way. Driving was what helped me the most. Now, I'm 28 and still struggling. I'm doing pretty well with most of the situations I used to avoid besides being far from home. I can drive about an hour or sixty miles from home. That's not a lot considering I have been working on this for six years. I feel like I've missed out on so much in those years because I haven't been able to go places; but, I also know that this has really helped me appreciate the places I do make it to so much more than I did before.

I know that compared to many other situations people are in, I am incredibly lucky that this is the hardest thing I have to conquer. I am in no way trying to suggest that this is the worst life circumstance a person can be in, but it is such an internal struggle that it sometimes feels like there's no end in site. I know that's not true and that one day I will be able to travel anywhere I want to go.

I decided to start this blog for a few reasons: First, because I want to really start trying to go places and I want to hold myself accountable by having to blog about it. I will write about the attempts, avoidances, and successes. Secondly, I hope to be able to reach other people who are struggling with anxiety and/or agoraphobia to give them some hope that progress is possible. This isn't just my story; it's the story of so many people, and I think it needs to be told. 

Forward to this Blog

I used to be able to look at a globe, spin it around and wherever my finger landed I could realistically tell myself that one day I would go there. Now I look at a map of Maryland, where I live, and I can only hope one day I will be able to travel to the far reaches of the state.

This is the story of how I went from believing I could go anywhere to believing I could go almost nowhere. It’s a story about how, when I was nineteen, my world began to shrink drastically. And how, when I was twenty-two, I vowed to fight against that shrinking, expanding my boundaries—and my life—day by day and literally mile by mile. And now, at twenty-eight, I'm still on that journey.