A couple weeks ago, H headed off on his annual backpacking trip.  He’s been doing the trip for years, and before kids, it was NBD, but this all changed when L showed up.  Actually, before.  The night before his planned 6-day backpacking trip in 2011 when I was pregnant with L, I was puking so much I thought we were going to have to go to the ER for dehydration.  (Unisom saved the day in the end.  It really helps morning sickness for some reason.)  Anyway, that yera, I started to mind him leaving.  Fast-forward to 2015, and I had my first panic attack when he was on a short backpacking trip.  Being unable to call him somehow made everything seem harder.  It’s not something that can be explained easily, but it happened.  Anyway, he’s continued to go on trips, because he feels they’re important for his happiness – and I agree – and we both want him to be happy.  Last year, he went while my parents were visiting, and that was the first trip of any kind that he’d been on in some time that didn’t precipitate a panic attack.  I took Clonazepam for the duration of his trip, and needed a run and a major pep talk from my brother and SIL who happened to be visiting at the time.  After that, things started to get better.  Still, at times, I feel like I’ll never leave this anxiety behind, that it’ll always be an issue in my life.  When i feel nervous or anxious, I’m constantly asking myself what’s normal and what’s not.  I can’t really understand what caused the panic attacks to start, and so, I can’t be sure it won’t happen again.  Anyway, this year, the hiking trip was a non-event.  I didn’t medicate.  I wasn’t stressed.  It just wasn’t a big deal – as it shouldn’t be.  (I mean really!)  So it’s good to look back year over year and realize that even if life isn’t perfect, it’s better.  And it’s good.