I haven't really said much on this topic yet, but I have lived with depression most of my life, and for me, that comes with the added complication of an anxiety disorder. While I've been on meds in the past, right now, I'm not, and I am working hard to keep it that way, because I'm just not me when I'm on them.
The week after Thanksgiving, I went to Mexico on business.
I didn't want to go - I have a strong dislike for being in places where I don't speak the language, few people speak any language I know, and I am obviously not safe going about my business.
Having a propensity to extreme anxiety, along with a hefty dose of social anxiety, makes travel just that much worse. My therapist and I are working on better ways to manange the anxiety. I'm much better now than a year ago at catching myself before it spirals completely out of control, but if I don't manage to head it off, there's not much to do but ride it out.
And right now, Mexico is a prime example of failing that safety requirement, and a place where, if there wasn't anxiety about going, you probably ought to think about therapy. I was told not to leave my hotel, and the engineering manager drove me back and forth because it wasn't safe to take a taxi, and wasn't really safe for me to be driving either. We drove through military checkpoints with lots of guys in camo, carrying large weapons.
To add to that, 2 trach kids (one on the message board I read, and one here local who shared nurses with us) passed away the week of Thanksgiving.
Although Acorn isn't as dependent on his trach and vent and such as he has been - we haven't had an episode of turning blue since shortly after he had RSV in May, and we have been steadily weaning him off the vent since September - it's hard not to think that this sort of thing could happen to him. We've seen him stop breathing - we've used the blue bag like paramedics use on TV to breathe for him - for a while there, it was an almost daily occurrence.
All in all, a perfect storm, anxiety wise. It was all I could do that morning to kiss him goodbye and walk out of the house, because a part of me truely believed that my plane would crash or that he'd die and I wouldn't know until I got home.
Though I think travel would still be an issue even without Acorn's medical issues, the whole medically fragile child bit certainly ratchets the anxiety up by an order of magnitude.
Once in a while, I just wish things were "normal" around here, but I'm not even sure I know what normal is anymore.