How to Travel Full-Time When You Have Crippling Anxiety, Depression, and Travel-Triggered Mental Health Issues

It’s hard but not impossible

Image courtesy of author. Berlin Wall, April 2023

Trigger warning: This article talks about anxiety, depression, OCD, and other mental health issues. Proceed with caution.

Travel and mental health issues don’t play well together.

When you live out of Airbnbs with no fixed address and spend all your time flinging yourself out of your comfort zone, there is little room for the safety and security that those of us with mental health issues seek out.

I have no safe place. Nowhere to go when things get rough. And they definitely get rough.

This is a tough article to write because it’s going to get incredibly honest. I’m going to tell you things that few people in real life know (I do a very good job of hiding my issues).

But I want to write it because I know there are plenty of people with mental health issues who desperately want to travel but worry they can’t do it.

Quick disclaimer because I’d not feel right writing this article without it — I can only offer my own experiences and perspective here. My issues are nowhere near as severe as some, for whom traveling may be impossible. I’m also — natch — not a doctor or therapist so can offer no medical advice.

What I can offer however is some hope that there are absolutely ways to travel whilst dealing with less-than-perfect mental health.

How do you travel when your mental health issues are triggered by it?

Deep breath.

I’m going to tell you something that only my husband and therapist truly know. IRL I keep this VERY much under wraps because I’m thoroughly embarrassed. I’m still not 100% sure I’m going to ship this article because I’m so embarrassed (Authors note: after two hours of working up the courage, yes, I shipped it. Then cried).

But no mental health stigma was ever broken down by keeping issues under wraps so here goes.

I suffer from some mental health issues focused around one of the worst possible things when you travel full-time:

Beds and bedding.

I’m not going to go into too much detail about the ins and outs but essentially, if a bed isn’t “right” (and there is a long list about what right means) not only will I not sleep at all but I won’t be able to do anything. It will be all I’ll think about, it will cause me huge stress and anxiety and trigger some very problematic behaviors that I’m not yet ready to share.

Going into full-time travel, I knew that beds would be my biggest challenge and I was absolutely right.

It also means spending a lot of time on the likes of Airbnb checking out beds and bedrooms and spending more money than I would like to get the right place. It means spending sometimes hours sorting out the bed when we arrive at the apartment.

It’s obsessive. It’s compulsive. And I assume it’s what happens when you put those two words together but I’m not 100% sure because I’ve not been in any one place long enough in the last three years to seek a formal diagnosis.

Not only that but a lot of my anxiety is triggered by travel, from being a nervous flyer to hating border crossings. I haven’t been able to fly long-haul in a while because my poor little heart can’t deal with the stress (it just about copes with short-haul albeit with tears throughout most of the flight), which is one of the reasons I bumble about Europe so much rather than elsewhere. Which of course, no one understands (why would I just stay in Europe when there’s a whole world out there to be explored, they say) and I don’t know how to tell them why.

These issues — particularly the bed — are a huge problem. I want to be able to throw caution to the wind more in my traveling life. But I can’t.

And when it comes to meeting other travelers, I feel all alone. Most people who travel are the “sleep anywhere” types who don’t have panic attacks 30,000 feet up because why would you travel if you can’t deal with bad accommodation and flying?

But travel I do.

And travel you (hopefully) could.

Because there are ways to travel whilst dealing with mental health issues.

For the love of God, do what you’ve got to do

It’s taken me three years of non-stop travel to accept that I have to travel a little differently to accommodate my mental health. In fact, I’ve still not fully accepted it — this article is part of the process.

But if I was talking to someone else other than myself who has mental health issues but still wants to see the world — that might be you — this is what I would say to them.

Do what you’ve got to do to cope.

There is not one single way to travel. Just because loud-mouth travel influencers are visiting 100 countries or sleeping in jungles or falling out of planes doesn’t mean you have to if the thought fills you with dread.

You can travel however the fuck you want.

If you struggle with flying, you can stay closer to home. Road trip it. Jump on trains or buses.
If you struggle with new environments, you could consider van life where you have greater control over your “home.”
If you need to pay more for accommodation that suits your needs then do it. Yes, there are some issues about overpaying especially in poorer countries, but if the alternative is not traveling, then you’ve got to make your peace with that. Or try to make up for it another way like only shopping locally or giving back to communities.
If you struggle with the uncertainty of travel then plan far ahead.
If you need to keep your animals close by, it’s definitely possible to travel with them. I’ve met plenty of traveling dogs and even the odd cat.
If you don’t deal well with inevitable changes to travel plans like canceled flights, consider traveling with someone who isn’t flustered by that. Funnily enough, that stuff doesn’t bother me at all but it does my husband, so I help him then and he helps me the other 99% of the time (if I’ve not said it recently, thanks Sam Dixon Brown).

For me, I’ve found that just carrying a pillow and a bedsheet so I can make any bed feel more “mine” goes a really long way to mitigate my issue. It’s a small and cheap thing that keeps me on the road for longer.

There are ways to do it. Just don’t do what I did and listen to the seasoned travelers who don’t have these issues to contend with.

Listen to what it is you need. Work with your therapist — if you have one — on how to cope.

Do what you’ve gotta do.

If you decide to travel, bravo. I mean it.

However hard it might be, however many allowances you might need to make, if you’ve headed to that airport and gone somewhere, you’ve done something many people are too scared to do. With or without mental health issues.

I take comfort from this. I take comfort from the fact that I could have stayed at home where I had complete control over my environment (especially that pesky bed). But I pushed myself enough to make it out.

And for some people, they find travel really helps their mental health. They’ve found strength and comfort in places they never thought they would.

Sure, it might mean that the whole of the world is not open to you and you might have to make big allowances. However much I love the idea of exploring Anthony Bourdain-style across half the world, for instance, I know my brain just wouldn’t cope.

But if you find a way — and I hope you can — you can still do it.

Not to get too cheesy or patronizing on your ass, but that is the biggest achievement of all.

This article is intended for entertainment purposes only and should not be considered medical advice.