For the two days leading up to my planned trip to Nepal, I was filled with dread, randomly crying and felt like puking because I was so scared. I had seven panic attacks in one day and took a half hour shower during which I spent 20 of those minutes sobbing. All I could think was “what the f**k was I thinking.” It would have been so much easier, and so much safer, for me to stay at home.

Saying goodbye to friends and family sucked. I felt like I was dying rather than travelling for an unknown period of time. My going away parties had a morbid, funeral, vibe to it.

It wasn’t until I spoke to friends who have taken similar journeys that I realized all of this, my fears and worries and dread, were normal. As one friend put it, you get used to living with the daily anxiety of the unknown. I don’t know if that was supposed to be comforting, but in a way, it was.

I’m not far into this trip (it hasn’t even been a full day yet in Kathmandu) but the panic attacks have subsided and I’m getting more and more excited for the unknown experiences and adventures I am bound to have over my next month in Nepal.

And who knows? Maybe I love it so much I extend my stay.