I'm going on an expenses-paid vacation and I cannot stand it.

I’m not a traveler. Money was never there for vacations growing up, so there was nothing really to miss. When I left the house I spent a large part of my twenties extremely broke, and for the last 7 years of it, I had an aggressive dog who could only be walked by myself (no pet sitters or boarding facilities, the only professional hands I trusted that dog in were my own).

I met a girl. She met me at my worst, and stuck around for my very best. Her family lives across the country, but they are incredible. They ‘adopted’ me no questions asked (my own family disowned me over my sexuality). Before I had even met them they were telling me that they were proud of me and that I could call them Mom and Dad and I could tell that they *meant* it. Shook me to my foundations, but I learned to trust it. They are awesome.

They like to travel, and they like to see their daughter. For the first 4 years of our relationship (we have been together for 6 years) I could hide behind the dog excuse. All was good. Then she (the dog, not my girlfriend!) passed, and the next spring they flew us out to Ontario to see them.

It was a BAD trip in every way. I panic when I’m out of my element. It took me 29 years of tumult to get any sort of stability in my life and I spent that entire time coping by dissociating, self injury, and drinking. I did wind up getting sober, I got diagnosed for the conditions I was self-medicating (ADHD and Bipolar), set my roots down where I was and hit the ground running: Surrounded by dogs at work and at home, strict routine, 2 jobs, it’s a well-oiled machine. When things got good after 3 years of sobriety it took an additional year to trust that things had gotten good and would stay good so long as I stayed on track. Because of how well I do, I'm on the bare minimum maintenance dose of my meds.

Travel blows that out of the water. My girlfriend’s family is so, so sweet, they know that I’m an introvert and need to take breaks to recoup from all the family time. Breaks are just a drop in the bucket when your world is on fire. I just silently lost it for the whole trip. It’s such a trivial thing to most people, but the only thing I could compare it to is my first week of sobriety, or the first week after losing my best friend to overdose.

Now I am set to go to an all inclusive in Florida tomorrow for my girlfriend’s parents’ 50th anniversary. For a week. I want to come through for them so bad. Since they booked the trip for us (didn’t ask, just booked) I have stuck my head in the sand and told myself that I am getting the hell on that plane.

I had to face the music today. Thank god my girlfriend was out of the house because I wouldn’t have wanted her to see what went down. The suitcase came out and the anxiety attack began. Pounding stuff (not breaking it), hyperventilating, curling on the bed and freaking out. I haven’t done that stuff in years. I feel like a 3.5 year old going on 35. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, only I do; I just never have to deal with it because I love where I’m at. I love my girlfriend, I love where I live, I love going to my job every day, I love having my dogs, I love walking to the village with them to run my errands (don’t own a car, which I also love). I love being a house mom in the transition house we are suited in. Keeping all of them grounded keeps me grounded. I start each day the same way and end each day the same way.

I can cope if we go camping because we have the dogs with us for me to hang onto. But when traveling without them I come apart at the seams. I tried to look into walking dogs at any shelter within driving distance of the hotel but understandably there’s a process to applying as a volunteer and they want residents of their own country.

Jetlag and time change also made it super hard on the last trip because if I don’t get a solid nights’ sleep, my shields to overstimulation are DOWN down. That’s another feeling I’m thankfully totally unused to.

I feel like such a baby. I’m not used to this side of myself. My girlfriend and I just dropped our dogs off at the boarding kennel and I couldn’t even say ‘bye to them’, just totally skipped over that part (they’re probably still having so much fun that they haven’t realized we drove away). The car ride back was horrible. I was honest about how I feel and my girlfriend confessed when we got home that she just felt so drained even from that 1.5 hour round trip. She’s never said anything like that before but I totally get it. I’m terrified of going on this trip and I’m equally terrified of sucking the life out of it for everyone else. I don’t even know if I will be able to fake being happy if I go. I’m scared they’ll feel guilty.

My girlfriend says her parents will understand if I bail but it feels fucking terrible to cancel this trip (gift!!!) because I essentially don’t feel like it. I don’t even know if I’m asking what to do, I’m just screaming into the void. I have 16 hours to end this madness by either pulling myself together or ditching at the last minute.

UPDATE: I’m calling it off. I did a pros and cons list. I called my sponsor. I was honest with my girlfriend’s parents and while I know her mom struggled with depression in the past, I did not know that she also struggled with panic attacks for years.

They understand me and want the best for me, I finally realize that. It will feel so relieving to drop my girlfriend off at the airport tomorrow and then go pick up my dogs.