A few years ago I developed full blown agoraphobia after a bad travelling experience. I’ve recovered a lot since then, but not completely, I can manage within a few miles of home, but travelling further afield still isn’t possible. Not everyone in my life knows I struggle with this, so I’m sharing here.
This is the trip where it all started.
I went to Liverpool on my own and stayed in an apartment style hotel. They didn’t really cater for guests and clearly expected people to self cater. I did have plans to go out and see things, but I was tired from the journey there and, if I’m honest, in the years before that I hadn’t been going out much anyway after a car accident that really shook me. It ended up being a quiet, relaxing stay in instead. The hotel was actually nice enough, and it had a table, so I spent the time watching TV and doing a few crafty things.
My room was up at least five flights of stairs. I didn’t want to use the lift as I’m phobic, and to make it worse my key card didn’t work so I had to go all the way back down again. I remember feeling shaky and overwhelmed.
The journey onwards was where things really escalated. I got a taxi to the station and it was chaotic. At the ticket barriers someone shouted at me, accusing me of barging in, even though they were just standing against the wall. I had literally two minutes to catch my train and didn’t even have time to process what they were saying.
After that came hours of tight train connections, diversions, and rushing up and down endless flights of stairs while lugging a heavy suitcase. I’d never travelled alone like that before, never had to navigate train systems, platforms and changes by myself. I was sweating, shaking, and completely overwhelmed.
A kind man offered to carry my suitcase down the stairs at one point, and I still remember that small act of kindness, it meant more than he’ll ever know.
When I finally reached Glasgow, a city I’d never been to before, things didn’t get easier. At the taxi rank the driver told me he was booked, and that all the taxis behind him were booked as well. I then had to somehow work out where I was going and walk there on foot, carrying my case, in a city I didn’t know.
Once I eventually made it to the flat I was staying in, I still had to go out again to a busy Tesco and then come back and cook. By that point my head was so fried I had completely forgotten that ready meals even existed. Have you ever been so tired that you just cannot think straight anymore.
When it was time to leave Glasgow, I got stuck in an hour long traffic jam trying to get out of the city. By then I felt completely done in, both physically and mentally.
That was the day my agoraphobia developed, full blown. I became housebound after that. In the years before, I didn’t leave the house much anyway because of a car accident which traumatised me, but still could leave the house.
I did technically manage the journey, with all the train changes and stress, but it came at a huge cost. My body just couldn’t cope anymore.
I wasn’t staying in Glasgow permanently and have since moved on, and I’ve done a lot of work to recover. I’m no longer housebound, and I’m proud of that. But I’m not back to how I was before, and I don’t know if I ever will be.
I’m sharing this in case it resonates with anyone else, or helps someone understand how agoraphobia can develop, not out of nowhere, but after prolonged stress and one final tipping point.
Thank you if you’ve read this far.