New York, I love you.

Following my last rather depressing post, I’m going to share all the fabulous photos I took in the time I was having a great time in New York City.

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New York, New York…

A year and a half ago, I was supposed to go on the trip of a lifetime, New York City, with my best friend, something we’d been planning for years. I had been obsessed with the city for years, mostly from watching countless episodes of Sex and the City and loving every second of it. Everything was set, flights, hotel, spending money, CityPass, it was looking to be the best holiday ever. Unfortunately, the reality was far from that…

The first two days of the trip were brilliant, we met up with one of our other close friends, went to Central Park, Fifth Avenue, and Staten Island. That night, in Little Italy I started to feel sick, very strangely so, not so much physically sick just odd, so I didn’t finish my pasta or margarita. We were supposed to be going to the Top of the Rock that night but decided to go back to the hotel so I could rest and hopefully feel better, the girls didn’t mind, we could always go the next night.

That night in the hostel, I had my first panic attack. I’ve never felt so scared in my life. It was the most horrible feeling, I’ve felt slight claustrophobia before but never like this. I felt trapped in our hostel room, in the hostel itself and in the city. We went to sit outside to get some fresh air, but it didn’t help.

I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, just lay awake staring at the ceiling, the next day I was so tired and still felt sick. We went to Times Square, which was amazing and then out for dinner at TGI’s. Then it happened again. I started panicking for no reason, just this horrible, overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia and not being able to breathe. I didn’t know what was happening, it was, in short, awful.

After going back to the hostel and another sleepless night of panic attacks, the next day I tried to get some painkillers to help, but a part of me knew they wouldn’t. That night, after spending the whole day in the hostel alone, I finally broke. I had to go home. I really didn’t want to, I felt like I was giving up, and was so sad to let my best friend down.

So, after a complete nightmare of trying to rebook flights and failing, $800 later I was booked on a flight home. That day felt like the longest day ever, there was a point when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to get home, which I couldn’t bare the thought of. That night, I got on a business class direct flight back to Edinburgh where my Dad picked me up. I remember the feeling so well, I felt relieved, but at the same time, I was completely heartbroken to be home.

The next few months were a blur, of anxiety, missing university, doctors appointments, then finally recovery. I still have problems with anxiety sometimes, but manage to overcome them.

The reason I’m writing this is this morning my boyfriend and I started planning a trip to New York. He’s in love with America, and after an amazing holiday last summer in Florida so am I. But I’m scared, which seems pathetic, I had panic attacks when I got home, in my childhood home which is my safest place, so I know the problem was not New York. The timing was just bad, so bad that it ruined my holiday and one of the best places I’ve ever been too. But I know I need to be strong, even if we don’t go this summer, I know I’ll go back one day, and I know it’ll be amazing.




6C935E8F-C1C2-4B15-A615-A86EC06AEE2F.gifToday has definitely been a very blue Monday indeed. Two weeks into the new year and I’m broke, my diet is failing miserably and I haven’t even looked at the gym.

Although I feel like I say this every day, tomorrow WILL be different. I’m going to go to the library to do some work, cook myself a healthy dinner and watch one of my favourite films in the evening.

Watch this space…