A Beach Kind Of Panic Attack

When I was 13, my grandparents bought a time-share. Which basically means that they bought a week for themselves where they could go stay in Florida at a condo. That first year, they invited me, my sister, my Aunt Marybeth, and my 2 cousins, Hannah and Danielle. Let me tell you, I was beyond psyched!

I was going to go to the beach, I was going to have the time of my life, I was going to get to be a real teenager, I was going to get to hang out with my cousins (who were 15 and 26 at the time), It was going to be the most fun week of my entire life.

And you know what? I HATED it.

This trip I would have given anything to go on, this trip my dad made me take swim lessons to go on {even though I already knew how to swim perfectly fine, but I think he was just being mean.}, I ended up hating so much. I was extremely homesick. From the moment I left home I could tell that this was going to be a bad idea. Every night while we were in Florida I cried. I still had so many more days left in the week, I was annoyed at how long my cousins took to get ready, I was completely bored sitting at the beach everyday... it was no fun at all. I even hated the day we went to Disney World.

Every year since then, my grandparents have gone to the condo for their week and taken my sister along. They go to the beach all week, and Disney World for one day. But I have not been back to Florida since that first time.

Rachel (my sister), Hannah (my cousin), and I at our condo in Florida.

My grandparents have tried to persuade me each year, my sister has tried to persuade me, but I don't go back. I had such a awful experience the first time, that honestly, why would I ever want to go back to Florida?

Except this year, I kind of do. 

As much as I hated the beach last time (and trust me, I hated it) I think it could be fun to go to the beach again. Couldn't it? People change. I hated the beach at 13, but I didn't hate it any of the times I'd been to the beach prior to then (this visit was my first time at the Atlantic Ocean. Before that, I had only been to the Pacific, because we lived in California.)

But then again, what if I do hate it?

I know this probably shouldn't be such a big dilemma, but for me it really is. Part of me feels like the beach would be such a fun get away, but the other part of me is scared. Scared that I'll hate it just as much as I did last time, that I'll be bored out of my mind, that I'll want to cry every night , that I'll be miserable, you know, all the things I was last time.

Everyone tells me it will be fun, but will it? I have to decide, and I can't go back and forth. Once I get into the car and we are on the road, I'm stuck! It's too late to turn back/ I don't want to have a miserable feeling of dread set in 5 minutes into our trip.I don't want to feel like crying the entire way there and be unhappy everyday for a week.

It's a week. But it's one of my last weeks off before I go back to school. I still have a ton of school work to do, and I was thinking the 14+ hours car ride to Florida might be the opportune time to get that stuff done once and for all. But what if I don't get it done? Then I'll have roughly a week to do everything {hyperventilate.} If I hate the beach, I don't want the week to be more miserable in my mind because I have to do an overwhelming amount of work while I'm there.

{Hyperventilate, grab air mask, back to writing.}

I think it's safe to say I'm freaking out. I'm only human, I have the right to that sometimes, don't I? I'm just overwhelmed at this point. Why can't my life and my decisions be simple? Why can't I just go, relax, and be totally carefree on the beach for a week? {For one, I don't have a swimsuit, but never mind that...} And Disney World. I doubt I'd be miserable there {Happiest place on Earth, right?}, but I can't go for the entire week just for that one fun day in Disney.

I keep going back and forth. Right now, I'm panic attacking, but I'll think about it, and then I'll decide I want to go.  I wishy-washy, because it all keeps coming back to that first time I went. I was basically traumatized {I don't even know what was so horrible, girls. I just can't shake that feeling and those memories of how much I hated the beach.}

It does sound fun. I mean, hunting for seashells, walking along the shore, swimming in the ocean out to the buoy, playing in the sand, reading a book in a beach chair, just having an overall fun, relaxing time. But I'm terrified!!

The view from our balcony the first {and only} time I went.

I had a horrible experience last time I went, but one trip that I hated with every fiber in my being shouldn't be able to stop me from going to the beach again and having a wonderful time. I shouldn't let it! But... easier said than done.

The past is history. The past can't touch me. Why can't I just let go of the past, of my last not-so-wonderful visit to the beach, and look forward to a new experience? But the feeling won't leave me! I wish I could just wipe the slate clean, and be able to truly look forward to a beach vacation without all of this doubt and worry, but I don't know how! The future, even just the next few weeks, are completely freaking me out right about now.

I'm sure you all think I'm a crazy woman right now {feel free to run, I'll take no offense!} , but I had to get this out. Can anyone relate to the way I'm feeling? I am obviously scared. I'm praying about it, but I'm still clueless as to what I'll decide to do. I need a voice of ration to encourage me one way or another! Thank you so much if you've read all the way through this jumbled mess of my thoughts. I could write pages and pages more, but I'll stop here. Ahhh! Overwhelming. So girls,

To beach or not to beach?