Is this excitement, or just terror?

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The closer my trip gets, the more jittery I am getting. It didn't even seem real until today when Bernhard (the world's awesomest travel agent) called to say my Brazilian visa was there. Considering we were uncertain whether I would be able to get it by next Tuesday when I leave, both surprising news and what should have been a big relief. I've felt 2 things simultaneously since; reassurance that I am supposed to be going on this trip, and utter terror that I actually am going on this trip.

All I can think of is Adriano (who isn't scared of anything, and loves to travel) telling me he puked up 'things he ate in elementary school' from nerves one night a few days before he left Winnipeg for Germany. I thought it was funny at the time, but now I think I know exactly how he felt. I don't even know if I'm scared or excited, they're all mixed together, and the end result just kind of feels like I have balls of snakes squirming around behind my ribcage.

I was so scared this all wouldn't work out, so I put off doing half the stuff I needed to get done, because I didn't want to think about it (and worry about not getting to go). Now that things are finally coming together, I'm realizing I essentially have 5 days to get ready for a 3 month trip. Not good.

It would help if Florian was a bit more excited about me coming, but after a month of not being able to wait for me to get there and being more excited than I was, he now seems more worried about having the extra responsibility of me being there, on top of practising to go into studio. On top of that, I'm losing my mind from being apart for the last month +. So I'm taking everything he says the wrong way, and if I don't get my head together, I am going to be more of a pain in the ass than helpful.

I'll feel so much better about that, at least, once I am there and can do something to help make this all work. I'm on a mission tonight to find a few hotels we can afford every city we are going to, so at least I can get us somewhere to stay. Tricky, since I don't know the band's accomodations in most cities, and we need to be close by, but I'm doing what I can, which at least makes me feel a bit less lost.

The terror I usually feel at flying anywhere is actually not as bad as I thought it would be, at least for the flight from here to Toronto. It's the 12 hours non-stop to Sao Paulo that has me terrified. I can barely handle 3 hours on a plane, how the hell am I going to handle 12?? Being worried about finding the bus station and getting from Sao Paulo to Curitiba, where Florian will pick me up, is almost a relief, because it's at least distracting me a bit from my fear of flying. It's like my fear is being dispersed over so many different areas that it isn't strong enough to turn into true horror in any one area, thankfully. I dread the way I know I will feel walking into the plane to Brazil in Toronto, though. I can feel my blood turn to ice just imagining getting on that plane, and I don't have any idea how I'm going to make it on there. Metal and love, I suppose. I have wonderful friends, though, I am finding out. A friend gave me his stuffed dog to bring on the plane with me, another friend is making me Toki from Metalocalype's 'deddybear' to bring along, and another has promised me something else to bring for luck and strength. That alone is going to give me the guts to get on that plane, though I can only hope that the horror doesn't get me once I'm trapped on there.

Everytime I fly, I feel everything turn to ice when I walk down that tunnel to the plane. I can feel myself losing control of my fear when I sit down, and by take-off I'm shaking and doing everything in my power to keep myself under control. I've spent my last couple of take-offs with a sweater over my head (which somehow helps a bit), and death metal cranked up on my ipod. Usually it helps enough that I only cry a bit, rather than freak right out, sometimes it doesn't and I'm out of my mind the entire flight. I just want to scream and scream, I can feel every muscle in my body trying to jump up and run off the fucking plane before I'm trapped for the duration of the flight. Everytime I tell myself it's only a few hours, I can handle a few hours. I try to read, and in the back of my mind I'm counting the minutes. I check my watch, then check again hoping 15 minutes have passed and finding that only 2 have. Time slows down so badly I wonder sometimes if it's moving at all, or if I'm stuck in some perpetual loop of my own private hell. The funniest thing is that I'm not scared of anything, except being out of control or trapped. I'm not scared of anything normal. I am not worried about getting robbed, or crashing, or any of that shit other people get worried about when they travel. I've been through so many awful situations already, and the only things that make me crazy like this are puking and flying. Figure that one out. I just hate the fact I'm trapped, that if something I can't handle does happen when I'm on the plane, I'm utterly helpless. I can deal with any other fear, because I know that I can get myself out of almost any bad situation in one piece (or at least mostly in one piece). I've dealt with so much bad shit that I just rely on that, the fact that I can do something to at least make things slightly less fucked up. It's not that I think I can always get myself out ok, I know I can't, but my reaction is never to panic or worry, it is to do something, to control the potential damage in some way. I can't do that on a plane, there's no way out. The same thing with my puke phobia, I think. I can't control vomiting, and that scares me. In some odd way, I think that I have that phobia as a way to handle other fears. The fear froma phobia is so strong absolutely anything else seems better by comparison. I find myself thinking about it at the strangest times, like when I get on a plane, telling myself 'just please god, don't let this anyone on here get airsick!'. It's like one fear counteracts the other. The only problem is my devious mind manages to just compound one with the other, instead, and I wind up duly terrified, first that I can't get off the plane, and secondly that the person next to me will start puking in one of those damn bags, and I still won't be able to get off the plane.

I've dealt with my fear by convincing myself it's only for a few hours up til now, but I guess now is the time to stand up and deal with it. I don't have much choice, if I want to get there. I feel sick, but so excited it's scary. Hopefully I won't see my lunch from grade 3 again before I leave! It's strange, but I'm almost as excited about dealing with this terror and handling it on my own as I am about actually being in South America right now. I guess the terror is already real to me, while actually being in Florian's arms again...that's a dream, not something I can feel and taste.

-one trainwreck of an excited metalhead (aka Sarah)

So great the sea, so small your boat
but you won't know, if you don't row
-Kalmah, Bitter Metallic Side

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