There's some key things you should know about me to understand the back story behind this little blog of mine.
First up, I am not a risk taker.
Any event has to be thoroughly planned in advance. I need to know what will happen, and when, and why, and how. I need to go through every possible scenario so that I'll know how to react if they occur. I demand details. I'm organised, and careful, and always, always prepared.
I have a long history of anxiety disorder (it tends to go with the territory of not taking risks), and especially social anxiety. People make me panic. Well, 'panic' might be a bit of a hyperbolic way of describing things. My idea of hell is a big, noisy party where the only person I know is the host. Meeting new people takes a lot of effort.
I'm also a classic introvert. I enjoy socialising with people I know, but I can also find it draining after a while, and need to "recharge" by spending some time on my own. I need my own space.
Finally, I've never been overseas before.
So no one was more surprised than I was when I suddenly decided to embark on a three-and-a-half week overseas trip doing two Contiki tours around Europe, England and Scotland, plus spending several nights in London on my own.
Yes, admittedly I had signed up for two pre-packaged Contiki tours, so I would be decidedly un-alone with a big group of people most of the time. But they would all be strangers to begin with. For someone with social anxiety to jump on a plane, fly to the other side of the globe and travel around foreign countries with no friends or family from home? Almost unheard of, in my world. It should put me in therapy for weeks.
In fact, part of my brain was shrieking "SO MUCH STUFF COULD GO SO VERY WRONG OH MY GOSH THIS COULD BE THE WORST THING EVER IN THE WORLD DON'T GO STAY HOME AND BE SAFE WITH AN ELECTRIC HEATED THROW RUG AND A HOT CUP OF COFFEE AND THE INTERNET AND CATS." But I managed to ignore it long enough to steer myself into a travel agent and start planning things, before I could think myself out of going.
So why did I do it?
I realised that 2012 was my last year of being a uni student, and that next year I'd (hopefully) be entering full-time employment. I also wanted to travel and see the world. Who knew when I'd get a chance to do that once I started work? I had a convenient 7-week break between semesters in the middle of the year - the perfect time to visit the northern hemisphere (I despise cold winter weather).
I'd also been going through a bit of an emo stage where I felt depressed and as though my life were boring. Call it a quarter-life crisis, if you like. Or a pity party. Travelling was one dream that I could actually make happen, and might even put a stop (even a temporary one) to feeling sad all the time.
So I went.
Yay!
