I’m typing this as I’m waiting for my flight from Langkawi to Kuala Lumpur. For the past week, I have been in Langkawi for a team meetup — a first (for the team) after 2.5 years of no traveling. Even right now, I must admit, I’m still nervous about traveling.
I might write about the beauty of Langkawi, but right now I want to write about traveling — specifically, on how we see the process.
I believe I’m not exaggerating when I said that the pandemic makes us traumatized. Even for folks who can be considered as “doing okay” during the pandemic, the whole thing definitely caused psychological scars to some degree.
Prior the pandemic, both Ari and I travel a lot. Ari with his job, me with Automattic. For me, specifically, it wasn’t as many as Ari’s but there were definitely some trips going on — at least for the team meetup and the Grand Meetup.
Then the effing pandemic happened, and we stuck with each other for a long 2.5 years. We underwent multiple lockdowns, and we fast realized we only got each other — four of us.
I’m the first one in the family who got the work-related travel. The team decided on a team meetup. Ari mentioned that he hasn’t heard anything from his office; especially with the office found out that the staffs can still do a good dang job remotely.
Oh how the anxiety flared in — and it was not solely me feeling it. I noticed Rey sulked on the night before my flight to Langkawi. I found myself stressed out about home while I was away.
Then, work-related trips starting to pop out on the company’s Slack channel. Some destinations are even further than Langkawi.
My goodness, I found myself dragging my feet.
So many anxieties, so many worries, and so many guilts. The guilt.
If you are expecting this post to end with an enlightenment, prepare to be disappointed.
I feel really guilty. And anxious. And worried.
And I don’t know how to overcome it.