I clutch my backpack straps and brace myself for what I’ve felt so many times before. Whether I am climbing the steps of the Eiffel Tower, hiking the trails of Cinque Terre, or trekking toward Neuschwanstein Castle, I freeze in my tracks as a panic attack surfaces, all the while others continue around me. Will I have the stamina to continue? I step to the side, clutch my backpack tighter, and sit. Sights and sounds become intense:

… I hear sirens racing through the Parisian streets. I wonder where the deafening shrills are heading. Perhaps to a crime scene, or to collect a body? Could my hotel be in flames? Will the fire be extinguished in time? I hope it is not my hotel. I pull my phone from my bag to check if there are any messages and notice the battery is low. Grabbing a portable charger from the side pouch, I trek on.

… Specks of dirt from the mountains in Italy are swept up by the wind, blinding me momentarily. I blink like a madwoman struggling to clear the dust from my eyes. What if the particles remain in my eye? Will I be unable to see for the rest of the trip? I rifle through my pack once more, then swiftly squirt moisturizing drops into each eye. Again, I am on my way.

… Through miles of Bavarian forest, I view dark clouds forming. I grimace with the thought that rain may prevent me from seeing the castle. What if the ground becomes wet and I slip and fall? My hair will frizz up and look bad. Grabbing my rain jacket from my backpack, I quickly wrap it around my waist.

With each new environment, my senses and mind run wild. Overwhelmed by the journey ahead, I struggle not to panic. In an attempt to calm myself, I grab my headphones from the front zipper of my bag, hurriedly placing an earbud in one ear. As the music plays, I feel my heart slows, my racing thoughts subside, and the world grows less intimidating.

Alone with my thoughts, I painfully observe those around me smiling and chatting. It seems so effortless for them. I am committed to persevering, to continue climbing the steps, hiking the trails, and biking the courses.

This summer I am at ease. Something has changed in me, and I am happy and comfortable for the first time in years. Punting along the windy River Cam in Cambridge, England, I am relaxed as my flat-bottomed boat glides through the murky waters. Quickly, I grab my iPhone to photograph the Gothic architecture and cafés that line the streets, but my cell battery has died. Without a second thought I slide the phone back into my pants pocket and continue to enjoy the cool breeze as I run my hand lightly across the water.

I take in the breathtaking sites of the city from the London Eye as I rotate in an enclosed capsule high atop the wheel. “Ear-bud less” along with others, I enjoy the intoxicating view.

It is the same recurring feeling. With unwavering determination, I reach the top. Gazing at the picturesque city, shimmering, crystal blue ocean, bright green pasture, flowery sunlit meadow, and clear blue-sky, wonder fills my senses, not fear. Anxiety is replaced by a sense of living for the moment; the need to avoid is gone as I fully engage with my surroundings.

As I look to my right and left, I appreciate the diverse and genuine individuals who are sure to become my lifelong friends. Freer and lighter, I am bursting with a sense of tranquility, fulfillment, hope, and empowerment. Noticeably missing is my omnipresent backpack full of security items I once carried even at home, to soothe my pervasive fears, anxieties, and sensory discomforts. Created as an escape, my journeys unexpectedly led to a personal voyage that gave me the strength to replace the “baggage” that figuratively and literally weighed me down in my daily life.

These days, my backpack is reserved solely for my schoolbooks.