TRAVEL
To unpathed waters, undreamed shores…
Every time Olivia Locascio saw someone she knew studying abroad, she knew there was no way she wasn’t going to do it too. What could possibly go wrong?
Olivia Locascio Olivia Locascio
You get to travel the world, you get to meet people from all over the world, you get to try new foods that you wouldn’t otherwise try if you’re at home; the list goes on. For me as well, I could take a break from studying Law. I signed up to do a semester abroad for subjects that counted towards my Communication degree. The process was all seemingly smooth sailing from the beginning. Get the right marks. Write a personal statement. Choose five options of places you’d want to stay. I landed on my third option; Venice, Italy. The first two being Milan and Madrid, and the last two being Pamplona and Paris. I wanted to stretch my comfort zone so far as only going to non-English speaking countries. There was no doubt about that. I come from an Italian background, so I wanted to be able to immerse myself completely in the Italian culture and learn how to speak to my family on the other side of the world. Plus, I had never been to Venice before. I was fortunate enough that my dad was able to organise for him and my brother to take me to Italy and spend the first two weeks with me discovering our roots in Sicily and Turin. I had plenty of friends from high school who were either also conducting a semester abroad or were already living in various places in Europe. There was safety and security almost everywhere. So why were the weeks leading up to me leaving the worst weeks I’ve ever endured in my entire life? It was two months before I was to set onto my four to six month adventure. New beginnings. New adventures. Too much newness for my liking. A new form of anxiety had kicked in, like I’d never felt before. I had felt moments of anxiousness before; whether it was the days leading up to exams or after submitting an assignment. That was all controlled. This wasn’t. It got to the point where every time I left the house and get in my car, my heart would start racing and my hands would instantly get clammy. I could’ve been in class, I could’ve been getting lunch with a friend, or even at work, but somehow everything I did, I didn’t want to look up. I didn’t want to face the world around that was causing my body to feel like it was breaking from the inside out. I sought therapy in the weeks leading up to my departure. It was mostly helpful in pinpointing where my anxiety was stemming from and discussing various methods I could use to weaken the symptoms. But with anything, you have to find what’s right for you. And that takes a long time.
The plane ride over was torture. Turns out, I’m an anxious flyer. This was also new to me. art: nimasotoudeh.com
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