It was another anxiety attack of what was to come.
As I tried to slow my breathing I had to laugh at myself. Why was I was so worried to go travel by myself?
As regrouped myself and practiced my breathing exercises I slowly fell back asleep.
In the morning I awoke with the sunrise and remembered "Oh shit, I am having anxiety attacks because I am off my anxiety medication".
About 6 months ago I poured all my medications down the toilet and flushed them. Up until then I had been doing great. I was committed to living my life and accepting my feelings without meds to alter who I truly am.
I was embracing everything I felt and thought wholly instead of trying to medicate my true personality and I loved it until I had to face real anxiety.
The day I left for Costa Rica I was a nervous mess. My nervous energy was never ending. I was like a honey bee on crack buzzing around everywhere. I was annoying myself but when I finally made it to the airport I went into travel mode and thought I had started to calm down.
My flight was at midnight. I told myself I would sleep on the plane, I didn't sleep at all. When I arrived in Chicago at 5am I was exhausted and nauseas. I tried to sleep during my layover with no success. Again on my flight to San Jose sleep did not avail me.
When we landed in Costa Rica and got off the plane I was 110% overwhelmed. My Spanish is OK but far from fluent. Getting through customs, to a taxi and to the bus station was a struggle to say the least. I went into survival mode to just get to the bus that would take me to the farm I was going to work at.
Walter (the main farm hand) had emailed me earlier and told me to only take the red cabs. So when I got outside of the airport I searched for red cabs. I was bombarded with offers for rides. I am pretty sure if I could of seen my face it would of been an "my eyes are going to pop out of my head, oh shit, I am a lost gringo face". One man came up speaking english and offered to take my bag and give me a ride. Stupidly enough I nodded and walked with him. Did he drive a red taxi? Oh no, of course not, it was a big white creeper van and I realized I fucked up. I was trying to figure out if he was legit or not as we loaded my stuff into the creeper van. I climbed in the van and prayed to my lucky stars I wouldn't get kidnapped. As he drove me he danced and sprayed cologne on himself the entire way. By the end I convinced myself he was trying to suffocating me to death with Axe body spray, but that is all that went wrong because he dropped me off at the bus station, Musoc, and wished me well.
At the bus station I somehow got the right ticket for the right bus.
(Costa Rica's bus system is the most ridiculous, complicated system I have ever seen. Seriously, its like a sick game of hide and seek and once you are on the bus they take like a minimum of 3 hours to get anywhere.)
Before the bus came I had a minor breakdown/freak out. I was starting to believe I had made a terrible choice coming here by myself. I missed home and my comfort zone but I was quickly shaken out of my freak out because I had to board the bus. The bus ride was a good 4 hours of curving, winding hills but I was in awe of lush, green landscape Costa Rica had to offer. There was pure feeling about passing through the hills that gave me a sense of serenity.
When I arrived in San Isidro (the town closest to where the farm was) Walter picked me up. I had no idea what to expect and I did not expect a bald german man who was, well a rather rough around the edges. He was nice enough as he drove me to the farm and showed me around but I could tell he was "take no shit" kind of person. As we walked around the farm he looked at me and he eventually stopped and looked at me and told me to go to bed. I was rather taken back but I realized he probably understood how exhausted I was.
I fell asleep early that night completely overwhelmed, sweating and swatting bugs away. All I could think was "what have I gotten myself in to?"
Fast forward to 33 days later (I'll fill in stories of those 33 days later in more blogs to come) I was sitting at Tracopa, yet another bus station, crying (again) not because I was overwhelmed but because saying good-bye was too hard to do.
I had made a family in Costa Rica and a new way life that embraced my weird quirks and odd personality.
Walter, the blunt German, quickly became like an Uncle to me. I cherish the days we spent wandering in the garden and the coffee dates where he would give the best life advice without even knowing it. I miss his abrasive terms and how he called everything "shit!" He always seemed to have answer for every dilemma, normally it was "eat a banana" but eating a banana never failed.
The other farmers, (Courtney, Gloria, Sara, Arthur, Sarah, Annie, Ari) all taught me something beautiful. They taught me to love myself, flaws and all. When your stuck on a farm for a month with little to do after work hours you talk, honestly and openly. They gave me a chance to be vulnerable and they embraced my story and loved me. They taught me to never let fear make my decisions and to try everything, yes EVERYTHING, at least once. I learned to always ask questions and never be afraid to speak what is on my mind. 
Every day I would go on a run through different parts of the tiny town I was staying in. Every day people would wave and say "Buenos Dias" or "Pura Vida"or if you looked completely lost at the bus station someone would always try and help (even if they had no clue what I was talking about). They taught me to smile and laugh without hesitation and to live in the moment.
When I planned my trip to Costa Rica I was hoping it was have an effect on my entire life, I left searching to find myself, to reconnect with the girl that was lost and harden from one hell of a bad year. I could of never guessed it would change my whole demeanor and allow me to gain a whole new acceptance and love for who I am.
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