How Travel Saved My Soul and Sanity

By Stephanie Ambarsumyan

“No, I don’t want to play.” I sat with my arms crossed and looked out the window. I watched the world fly by as we traveled by overnight train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai in Thailand. “Everyone else is playing, I think we’ll look antisocial if we don’t join in, ” my husband suggested. We were on a group trip through Southeast Asia. Our tour guide had set up a “speed dating” style game for us to get to know each other better. My stance on the activity was a firm “no.” This was not because I didn’t like my fellow travelers. Each of the 20 or more travelers were easy to get along with and we had already shared many laughs together. No, the reason I did not want to play was because something, I felt, was wrong.

Every time I opened my mouth to speak, I felt that my pounding heart would fly outwards through my throat. My heart was a furious, caged bird trying to escape its prison by doing all the thrashing it could until it broke free. I had the chills and the setting around me felt surreal, overwhelming, and suddenly too loud. It’s these malaria tablets - they’re messing with me. I’m sick from the tablets!  Or, maybe it’s possible that I have dengue fever. I’m going to die in this country. I’ve got some rare Thai disease and I’m going to die right here on this train. I. am. going. to die.

 Of course, I’m happy to report that I did not in fact die. Although that is exactly what my symptoms felt like, I was far from perishing. More than likely, I was having a panic attack but did not know it. Why?

 The symptoms of a panic attack mimic many other more dire illnesses including heart attack, stroke, and respiratory issues. Panic attacks can cause chills, dizziness, shortness of breath, fainting, and migraine.

I had no known antecedent to the incident. I had not been worried about anything and had in fact been only been focused on creating unique memories with my traveling companions. The onset of my symptoms seemed to come out of nowhere, and I was certain something sinister had taken hold of my body.

I did not know any of this on the evening of the night train expedition to Chiang Mai. All I knew was I felt the walls closing in on me, and I wanted to be away from everyone and asleep. The train staff converted my seat into a bed earlier than usual. Every so often as I lay drifting off to sleep, my heart would slam against the walls of my chest and I was jolted awake. The next morning, I was completely fine. I awoke to calm and lush, green rice fields that matched how I felt after a refreshing sleep. After three weeks in Asia, I eventually returned home to life as usual in the United States.

However, things did not remain tranquil. In fact, they got progressively worse.

I work in a fast-paced environment in New York City; I also live in the city. All aspects of daily life – from check out lines to due dates, people, and cars– all are expected to move nauseatingly fast. I began feeling uneasy about my plate being piled high with obligations. My sense of uneasiness seemed noticeably different from past feelings of stress. If I had a thought, for instance, about needing to get my oil changed, the thought would knock at the door of my mind relentlessly. It felt something like: “Get oil changed - NOW...get oil changed - NOW...get oil changed...NOW!” I did not feel at ease until the task was done. I chalked this up to living in a pressure-filled environment. Afterall, it was not an uncommon sentiment. Many people around me felt plagued with thoughts about what needed to be done and felt they had insufficient time to do it. 

In February 2017,  my husband (then boyfriend) and I took a vacation to Iceland for one week. We climbed up unfathomably gigantic ice glaciers. We held hands and stood awestruck underneath the Northern Lights. We splashed around like children while laughing until our abs hurt in the Blue Lagoon.  One day, when exploring the Golden Circle, my husband knelt down at Gullfoss Falls and asked me to marry him. I’d never been so surprised in my life. It was the most unexpected, exuberant feeling, and it was the happiest news I had ever received. People around us - complete strangers– applauded and hugged us. I felt radiant and overjoyed the entire day and my feelings were amplified when I received “WhatsApp” messages of best wishes from friends and family.

And then, for no reason at all, I felt nothing but sickness and devastation. A peculiar (to say the least) thought popped into my head.

I have HIV. I’m sure of it. He will never marry me. I have HIV and this will ruin everything.

The oddity of this feeling was that I did NOT in fact have HIV. I even knew that while I was having those thoughts. In fact, there was no conceivable way that this could even be plausible. I was not a virgin, but I had always gone to great lengths to practice sex safely and was regularly tested even though my risk of catching anything was minimal. Nonetheless, the fear plagued me, tormenting me ruthlessly. I rode horseback in the snow, danced at nightclubs,  laid eyes on the most astonishing sites that nature has to offer, and I could not enjoy any of it fully because of incessant, intrusive, fearful thoughts. 

The day we landed at JFK, I immediately drove myself to a walk-in clinic to be tested for HIV. I paid an embarrassing amount of money to have the results read minutes later, rather than days later. The results, of course, were negative.

I convinced myself that this incident was just nervous energy at the prospect of my life-changing by being married. I continued to be haunted by fears but chalked it up to dealing with daily work and life stress. Therefore, I didn’t notice that anything was really really wrong.

In Mykonos, I could no longer escape reality. My honeymoon to Mykonos was the type of trip that people spend an entire lifetime longing to experience. The view from my hotel room was the postcard image of default computer screens everywhere. I’m certain that although I’m not a celebrity, I had the kind of trip only the rich and famous get to experience.  

Yet, each day a nagging and pervasive thought filled my head. “Death. Death. Death.” To be clear, I did not have suicidal ideations or feelings, but the thought of dying was always with me. It could have been spearheaded by my grandfather recently being in hospice while I was away. Whatever its origins, I thought only of mortality. I thought of myself dying, my loved ones dying, and it was horrifying. That is not to say I did not enjoy my trip; I absolutely did. However, imagine being at the meal of a lifetime and having a mosquito bite your ear every few minutes. That is what this mental nagging felt like.

As soon as I got home, I made an appointment with my doctor. Through sobs and shame, I told her that I couldn’t take it anymore and I desperately needed help. I remember her saying, “I bet you feel like you want to crawl out of your own skin.” She described my thoughts exactly, and then went on to say that I have OCD and anxiety and she sees many patients with these issues. For so long I was ashamed and uncertain about what I was experiencing. She reassured me that while everything might feel upside down, life would get better. She prescribed a treatment plan which combined medicine and therapy. Six weeks later I traveled to Europe again,  and could not believe the person I had been only weeks before. For the first time in a very long time, I felt normal and the nagging thoughts and racing heart stopped entirely. 

I credit travel with saving my sanity and soul. It was only in these perfect destinations where I knew I should be feeling joyful and relaxed that I realized that something was definitely wrong. I only wish that I realized something was wrong sooner and did not waste so much of my traveling time with frantic worrying. However, I’m grateful to have received the help that I needed, which has since allowed me to travel with my loved ones with a clear mind and a readiness to live fully and immerse myself in new places.

Stephanie is a full time NYC public school English and special education teacher. During every holiday break, she is sure to be exploring somewhere new. Having a background in education, she constantly looks at the world during her travels in terms of what she can learn, and how she can pass this knowledge onto others. While nature may be in vogue, she prefers getting lost in large, loud, gritty, cities. Stephanie enjoys travel writing from a place of authenticity, openness, and humor. Follow her adventures at http://www.whatilearnedis.net. Instagram: @what_i_learned_is_traveler