“How are you feeling, Chelsey? Are you getting excited?”
“Yep pretty stoked!” *inside silently screaming, palms start to sweat, heart rate increases, mind goes to worst possible scenario* “Should be super fun!”
Ahh yes, dear friends and family, I am but one short week away from take-off. As you can see, I am freaking out. I think I’ve done a pretty good job keeping my cool on the outside. My brain, however, is doing this:
If you read my last post, you have a very small insight as to why. But the reality is that there is so much more than being an obsessive worrier/over planner.
I am about to embark on my very first solo trip. I will be completely removed from everyone I know, in a country I have never been to. I have done all the research I can possibly do. The only thing that’s left is to pack up and go.
I’m totally fine 😓
Truth be told, I am worried. Not so much that I will forget something or that I budgeted wrong, but because there are so many “firsts” for this trip. Grappling with all of them is exhausting, let me tell you.
For starters, I haven’t been on a trip this long since I went to Germany as part of an exchange program in high school – which was in 2006. Two weeks really isn’t that bad, especially on the account that I originally wanted to be gone a month, but the anxiety is still there. That’s an awfully long time to be away from a dog who has never had to deal with me being gone more than a week in his entire life. Seriously, try telling this face:
That I won’t be back in any time frame he can fathom. He knows something is happening, too. According to Jameson, the only place I’m going is on is a guilt trip.
Then there’s the obvious factor of me having never been to Ireland. If you know me at all, you would know that I have been obsessed with the country and culture for an exorbitant amount of time. But being obsessed and reading everything you can get your hands on is very different than actually experiencing it first hand. In all honesty, I think I’m more concerned that I over hyped Ireland, and that it will not live up to my expectations. I know some of you are thinking ‘Hahahaha as if that could possibly happen!’ But it’s a real concern of mine. How terrible would it be to wait your whole life to do something, then realize it’s not as cool as you thought.
Then there’s the largest factor of all – going completely alone. I’ve never been super good at being adventurous on my own. I’m a bit of an introvert, I hate conflict, have mild social anxiety, and am absolutely not the one to make an introduction. I prefer to be in the background and just kinda watch the happenings around me. I have never eaten at a restaurant alone or gone to a bar without the intention of meeting up with friends. For this trip, I am literally forcing myself out of that mindset, and I have no clue how I will actually handle it.
I hope I can make a few friends while I’m there. I hope I get up enough courage to venture to a pub on my own for a drink or two one night. I hope I take the opportunity to try new things as they come. But that’s all I can do – hope.
Now before everyone gets worried about my safety and well-being, I want you all to know that, above all else, I am incredibly ecstatic about going. I have thought about this trip for the better part of two decades, and I finally have the opportunity to go. I cannot begin to describe how elated I am. I did a happy-pre-trip-OMFGimgoing dance last night, but sadly it was not captured by on film. I am so much better at interpretive dance than blogging. I think I found my new calling.
The next time all of you will hear from me will be on departure day. Wish me luck making it through seven days in one piece.