Hello everyone, I've been a member here for quite a while, but I've rarely ever posted. I'd just like to share my story with you.


3 weeks ago, I managed to get on a plane and fly to Great Britain. This took about 5 months of therapy and a little help from a tiny green pill, butI did it.


Our school's senior band (of which I am a member) decided to take a full week tour of England & Scotland last year. I decided that it was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I HAD to make myself do it. The trip was set up last year, and I began making payments in September of 2004. I was convinced that I could get on that plane. I DID get on that plane.


The day we were set to leave, I was tired from not having slept all week due to anxiety. I woke up, finished packing, andwent to school where we would meet our coaches to take us to the airport. I got on the bus, which a few years ago, would have been HORRIFIC for me todo.


When we got to the airport, my excitement about leaving the continent was almost overriding my fear of getting on a plane. I was proud of myself for something as small and insignificant as that. I was actually excited. We were at the airport for about 4 hours. That's how much time I had to worry about the upcoming plane ride. Long story short, I took a Lorazepan shortly before I got on, and I did it.


No one was sick on the plane. I ate airplane food and felt fine, even GOOD afterwards. I was quite literally flying high. But the airplane rides weren't the most stressful part of my trip.


When we landed, a girl in our tour group ran to the bathrooms to be sick. Luckily, I'd used the airplane bathroom and didn't have to go. When she came out, I actually had the strength to offer her a Gravol. She took it from my hand. I touched a person who had been sick just minutes earlier. I was SO proud of myself.


The first 3 days of our trip went well. A boy on the other coach we were traveling with was sick, but I didn't see it, and I didn't know him, so I was alright. Later on, I was actually within a mile radius of him getting sick in a garbage can. I lived!


On the fourth day of our trip, I was REALLY tested. The roads in Scotland are winding, narrow, and bumpy. Imagine being on a coach doing 70 km/hwith the same person who was sick right after the plane ride on the bumpiest, most winding road you've ever been on. It felt like a roller coaster. My stomach rose and fell with the curves of the road. And she had Burger King for lunch shortly before.


We finally stopped at a rest station after one of the chaperones for our group had handed her a garbage bag. She ran off the bus to find a bathroom. I took another Lorazepan to calm myself down. I bought 2 magazines from the store there to keep myself preoccupied. I forced myself to get back on the bus after 15 minutes of crying and shaking like heck. When I got back on, I lost it. I mean, COMPLETELY lost it. I couldn't control my body. I was shaking so hard I was moving my seat that was bolted to the floor. I couldn't speak or see because I was crying so hard. Worst of all, I couldn't BREATHE. All I could think about was that she was going to get back on the bus. And if she threw up on the bus, other people would smell it and throw up, too. And then the whole bus would be full of people throwing up. I would be trapped and have NOWHERE to go, in a foreign country on a different continent. It was the most terrifying experience in my life. I could literally feel the blood pumping through my body. My pulse must have been at least 100bpm.


She got on the other bus.


They decided that it would be smart to isolate all of the kids with motion sickness on the other bus, and keep them there. I'd never been so RELIEVED in my life. I was crying tears of joy for nearly 2 hours afterwards. I was still shaking for the rest of the day, but I'd survived. I couldn't believe that I was going to be okay. Never in my LIFE have I been that terrified. I hope to never be that terrified again. She h