Holding it together away from home.
.I always forget how hard traveling is on me until I’m in the middle of it. Right now, I’m staying in an Airbnb for school, and everything feels off. I don’t have my family or friends around me. I don’t even have my own bed or the little routines I usually depend on to keep myself grounded.
My day-to-day life is already plenty hard, but when I’m in a new space without my normal routine, it gets worse. My already terrible sleep gets even more broken. The paranoia creeps in, and every little creak of the house has me walking around looking for an intruder. I end up sleeping with all the lights on, and if I’m lucky, I get a couple of hours of rest.
I lose my hunger cues too. Most days I just stop eating, or—if I’m really on top of it—I’ll manage to eat once. The hallucinations get more intense when I travel as well, though that part is the most manageable.
This is why my coping skills matter so much. I’ve created checkpoints for myself to monitor how I’m doing and to help me keep functioning even when my brain wants to drag me under. These systems are what allow me to keep going to work, turn in APA papers for school, and take care of my kids.
A big part of my support system is my wife. At home, she’s always there to ground me. But when I have to travel for school, she usually can’t come with me. That’s when I really feel the weight of having to lean on myself and the skills I’ve built.
I’ve spent years developing these coping tools. They aren’t optional for me—they’re how I survive and how I continue to function. When my mind is worse, I have to lean on them harder and adapt them to whatever environment I’m in.
Most people who meet me will never know that I’m schizoaffective bipolar. On the outside, I usually look like everyone else. What they don’t see is that I’m navigating paranoia, hallucinations, and exhaustion every single day. What they don’t see is how much effort it takes just to hold it all together.
But that’s also why I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. Traveling shakes me, but it doesn’t stop me. My coping skills, my support system, and the routines I fight to keep—those are what let me keep moving forward, even when it feels impossible.
