I’ve finally had some sleep and am feeling better rested then I was yesterday. I think I might have learned some interesting things about myself.

At some point I might share an amusing anecdote about the weather on my trip east… suffice to say, I think I finally found a legitimate reason to use the phrase, “lousy Smarch weather”.

I’ve always known that I’m not very good with sleeping in upright positions. I can’t just sleep anywhere. My SO very fairly said while we were in our 8-hour waiting pattern yesterday in Chicago that I literally can’t sleep anywhere. And for the last 2 years or so, that’s 100% accurate. It’s been 2 or so years since I’ve even had anything approximating decent sleep. I do know why that is. It’s all part and parcel of dealing with some pretty old demons.

Of course, after 30+ hours of absolutely no sleep, I’m not exactly the most happy person. Really, I don’t think many people are. Actually, let me state it this way, I don’t think people are happy to be up 30+ hours when it’s not by choice.

The worst part is that I tried everything I could to calm myself down and knock myself out. I intentionally got something to drink that I knew would make me fall asleep just so I could finally get some rest. And nothing worked. Not until I was out of Chicago and finally made it to our destination.

I also learned that I’m a fine traveler… as long as I’m actually traveling. I love going places and getting to see new things. I love visiting locations that I’m not as familiar with. Hell, I even actually love the journey to get there… as long as it keeps moving. It’s the moment that I feel stalled… actually, it’s when I feel trapped that I start to freak out. I’m not sure why that is.

I’m not claustrophobic. Being in tight, cramped spaces with lots of people does not freak me out. But yesterday, being trapped in O’Hare got to me. And maybe it’s the fact that I feel like there’s freedom, but there really isn’t. We couldn’t just go somewhere else other then the terminal.

Maybe that’s the fallacy of modern US air travel. It gives you the freedom to travel anywhere in the world as long as you adhere to some pretty strict and fast rules. That’s not to say that I don’t think the rules have any use. They do… to a certain degree, but I’m not going to get into that because that’s getting into politics, and that’s not what this post’s about.

It’s strange how being exhausted and in a place you want to leave can get to you.

And I broke down.

Sure, it wasn’t just about being stuck for 8 hours in an airport (which in and of itself is it’s own hell). Whenever people break down, it’s never about the reason they’re breaking down. It’s about several other things at the same time. So, it was partially about being stuck. It was also about the fear of not being able to leave for another 24 hours at which point I would be at over 2 days of no sleep, it was dealing with the stress of travel and it was also me mentally dealing with my problems.

Maybe I needed to be there. Maybe I needed to experience that. I did something that I simply don’t do often… and I certainly don’t do in public.

I cried.

I cried because I needed to. I had so many feelings and emotions that I needed to have out. And after that happened I was able to leave Chicago.

Now, you can call it coincidence or what have you. I look at this as maybe a trial I had to go through. I haven’t really let myself cry in… well, I can’t remember how long. Sure, it’s entirely coincidental that events happened that way. But it’s a time and place where I learned something. Every single one of those moments are valuable.