Plane-xiety

I've diagnosed myself. The only thing is, the name of my diagnosis (plane-xiety) is ever so slightly a misnomer. I'm not actually scared of planes or flying. However, I have genuine anxiety about airports. I. Hate. Airports.

I could say I hate traveling (which makes everyone's collective jaw drop because of how much I actually travel), because for me, getting there is not, in fact, half the fun. I like being places. I don't enjoying getting there. I've written quite a lot in the past about my unusual and stressful traveling situations and misadventures, so I have a lot of fodder to fuel my discomfort.

I think the airports themselves are the cause of my stress. I'm totally on-board with security measures; I like to be safe. However, the process of ensuring safety tends to be rather harsh, abrupt, and personally invasive...while you're on the go and in a hurry.

I really hate things like getting stranded in Paris with no where to go and lots of cranky airport workers (stranded in Charles de Gaul- not in fun, cool Paris), being in a shuttle accident between the plane and the airport, running for flights, filling out endless lost baggage forms, being pulled aside all. the. time. to be frisked, taking things off/pulling things out/putting things away continuously (always with people piling up behind you), delays, cancellations, no sleep (and I REALLY don't do well without sleep...like, my body freaks out), food smells that make me vomit, migraines from dehydration and no sleep, arriving in one European stopover city to find out that the flights are messed up and they need to send you back where to came from so you can start over, 3:45 a.m. arrivals, 3:45 a.m. arrivals accompanied by filling out lots of lost baggage forms...

I just don't like it at all. It turns me into the stressed and not-fun version of myself. Aaaand, I'm about to do it again two weeks from today. Prayers would be appreciated...I don't want my travel luck (I doubt that's the right word) to follow me and my sweet team to Ukraine.