chapter 2 : Lost in the Crowd: When Solo Travel and Anxiety Collide.

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Lost in the Crowd: My Worst Anxiety Episode in a Public Space

Hello, my lovely readers! This is Pavithra, back with another blog on MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL. Today, I’m sharing a rather chaotic and anxiety-fueled experience—one that made me realize how terrifying solo travel can be when you have social anxiety.

November 17, 2024 – The Day I Derailed My Own Plans

The day started beautifully. I woke up feeling fresh, ready to take on whatever was in store for me. And then, a message popped up on my phone from a friend:

source : the independent 

"Are you in for the plan today?"

"A plan???" I frowned, racking my brain for any prior discussions. Without thinking much, I replied, "I'm on."

And just like that, I was going to a cinematography event.

Dressed in an all-black outfit, radiating confidence on the outside, I stepped out of my home with a smile. My mom, however, wasn’t as convinced. She knew my struggle with anxiety in crowded spaces. She knew how easily I spiral when surrounded by too many unfamiliar faces. But I reassured her—and myself—that everything would be fine.

The Moment It All Fell Apart

source : iStock  

The bus ride to the metro station was smooth. I even managed to enjoy the view from my window seat. But the moment I got down near the metro entrance, reality hit me like a truck.

A sea of people. A never-ending wave of strangers pushing past me, walking in all directions, their voices overlapping into a deafening noise.

source : Pinterest 

I froze.

My breathing turned shallow. My heart pounded. My hands turned clammy.

source : Cleveland clinic health essentials 

It was as if my brain had short-circuited. I was supposed to walk up the steps, scan my ticket, and board the metro. Simple, right? But at that moment, it felt impossible.

I forced myself to move forward. One step at a time, trying to drown out the chaos around me. I somehow made it onto the metro, but the discomfort didn’t fade. Instead, it got worse.

I felt unbearably drowsy, my bag felt like a hundred bricks, and the sheer number of people in that tiny, moving space was suffocating. That’s when it hit me—I couldn’t do this alone. Not today. Maybe not ever.

I wasn’t even at the event yet, and I already wanted to escape.

source : Shutterstock 

Ditching the Plan & Finding an Escape

I got down at a random station, aimlessly walking out into the city, still feeling dazed. I ended up entering a mall—alone, anxious, and completely drained.

I could feel my anxiety peaking, my body screaming at me to do something to stop this spiral. So, I did the only thing that made sense at that moment—I ordered food. A Mexican rice bowl, to be precise.

With shaking hands, I texted my best friend, explaining everything. She immediately called and said, "Stay there. I'm coming to get you."

Hearing her voice calmed me, but only a little. As the call ended, I sat there, staring at my food, lost in thought.

The Realization That Hit Me Hard

source: iStock 

Sitting in that food court, blasting music in my ears, I had a moment of clarity.

If I let this anxiety consume me every time I step out alone, I’m going to be stuck in a cycle of fear forever. It’ll ruin me. It’ll limit me.

I needed to do something about it.

A Friend’s Rescue & A Small Victory

When my best friend finally arrived, I felt an instant sense of relief. I had never been so happy to see her in my life. The moment she reached me, I clutched her hand tightly, and we walked around the mall together.

Little by little, the tension in my body eased. My grip loosened. My breathing steadied. The overwhelming fear slowly faded into the background.

I was okay again.

The day might have started with panic, but it ended with ice cream, donuts, and French fries—courtesy of my best friend, who knew exactly how to make things better.

You Are Not Alone—Let’s Talk About It!

There will be times in life when you find yourself alone in a crowd, lost in your own thoughts, and completely overwhelmed by anxiety. In those moments, it feels like the world is closing in on you.

But trust me—you are not alone.

source : pngtree 

Anxiety is real, and it’s exhausting. But talking about it, sharing our experiences, and finding support can make all the difference.

So, I want to hear from you! Have you ever had an anxiety episode in public? How did you handle it? Let’s create a safe space in the comments where we can support each other. 

If this blog resonated with you, share it with someone who might need to hear this today. Let’s spread awareness and remind each other that we are stronger than our anxiety!

 Follow MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL for more of my personal stories, experiences, and reflections on life, mental health, and everything in between.  Let’s embrace this chaos together!

With love,
Pavithra

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Chapter 1: Blood, Panic & A One-Way Ticket to Chaos

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When Womanhood Knocked & Anxiety Answered

Life was going pretty smoothly… until August 13, 2019.

Why that specific day? Because that’s the day I woke up to the most terrible surprise of my life.

Hello, my lovely readers! It’s Pavithra, back again on MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL with another chaotic entry. In this blog, I’m sharing how I had my first-ever anxiety episode—triggered by my first period—while already drowning in the crisis that was 10th grade.

The Beginning of the End

source : vecteezy 

Growing up, I was caught between two worlds. My parents came from different cultures, different states, and different traditions, yet I had spent my childhood  in Bangalore, blissfully unaware of either. Until that day.

August 13, 2019.

You might be wondering, why this specific date? Well, that’s the day my body decided to betray me in the most dramatic way possible.

Everything had been going fine until that morning. I woke up, feeling slightly off—an unusual back pain, a weird heaviness in my body. And then, I spotted the first ever pimple on my face. Great, I thought, another failed skincare experiment. Irritated, I shrugged it off. Then came the cramps. A dull ache in my lower back, then my pelvis—it hurt. A lot. But I ignored it, blaming my sleeping posture 

And then, I walked into the bathroom.

There it was. A pool of red.

I froze. My heart pounded. My mind screamed.

Oh my god. It’s happening. I’m dying.

                                                            source: pexels 

I knew what periods were. I had read about them. Heard about them. Even expected them. But no one prepares you for that first time. No one tells you how it feels like a betrayal from your own body. Like one day, you’re a kid, and the next, the universe decides, “Congratulations! You’re a woman now. No take-backs.”

My brain short-circuited.

WHY? ME?
Wait—what do you mean “why me”?
I’m a girl. This was bound to happen.
But WHY SO SOON?!

                                              source: unsplash

Despite the storm inside my head, I somehow managed to stay calm. At least on the outside. I called out for my mom.

“MOM?? MOMMM!!”

She came running, probably assuming I had fallen, broken something, or set the house on fire. But no. I simply handed her the blood-stained towel like I was delivering evidence of a crime scene.

Her eyes widened. And then, she smiled.

“HOW?! Wait… aren’t you—?!” she trailed off, clearly overjoyed.

Excuse me? Overjoyed?

I was over here having a full-blown existential crisis, and my mother was acting like I had won an award. Apparently, in South Indian culture, a girl’s first period is a big deal. A whole festival kind of big deal. And I? I was clueless.

The Special Treatment (That I Did Not Ask For)

“Go take a shower and wash your hair,” she instructed.

Confused, I obeyed. But when I came out, freshly showered and wrapped in fresh clothes, the weirdness truly began.

I was made to sit in a separate room. A woman spread a mat in the corner and gestured for me to sit. Then, the bomb dropped.

“Don’t touch anything.”

Wait, what?

I watched in horror as my mom made frantic phone calls—to my dad, my relatives, possibly even the President for all I knew. My brother, confused and impatient, tried to sneak in to see me, but he wasn’t allowed near me either.

I felt like an outcast.

                                                 source : dreamsite.com

My own home felt foreign. My own family members were being instructed not to touch me. For the first time in my life, I felt different. Not in a good way.

Anxious. Alone. Overwhelmed.

And then, the worst news came.

“We’re going to your hometown,” my mom announced.

My hometown—a small, socially and technologically backward village in Andhra Pradesh. A place I had never been, but now, I was being shipped off there like a cultural sacrifice.

Panic set in.

My chest tightened. My breathing turned shallow. I wanted to cry, to scream, to run. But I was stuck. Stuck in a whirlwind of rituals and traditions that I didn’t understand.

The Rituals (Or: My Personal Horror Story)

The train ride to the village was a nightmare.

Cramps, exhaustion, discomfort—combine that with traveling in a crowded train, and you get third-degree torture.

When we arrived, I was paraded in front of family members I didn’t even know existed. My mom went around announcing my big news like she was handing out wedding invitations.

                                                 source : dreamsite.com

The anxiety? Oh, it skyrocketed.

Then came the rituals.

First, I was dressed in a white saree. Women surrounded me, adorning my hair with flowers, decorating me like some sort of festival deity. My uncle and aunt were assigned to perform the official rites.

I was made to sit on a woven coconut leaf mat while people I had never met walked in and out, offering me sweets, bananas, raw eggs, sesame oil, jaggery, and puffed rice.

I sat there, covered in turmeric, confused, exhausted, overstimulated.

My heart pounded. My hands felt clammy. My mind screamed again.

I don’t belong here.
Why is this happening?
Why am I being treated like an alien?!

I wanted to disappear.

                                                 source : iStock

Surviving the Chaos

For seven days, I was trapped in this unfamiliar world. Seven days of being excluded, isolated, and paraded like a showpiece. I wasn’t allowed to touch anything or anyone. It was like my very existence had become impure.

By the seventh day, I was done.

Finally, the rituals ended. The restrictions were lifted. And just like that, I was allowed to exist normally again.

It was overwhelming.

I had survived the most bizarre experience of my life. My first period, my first anxiety episode, my first cultural deep-dive—all at once.

As I packed my bags to leave, I realized something.

This experience? It was one for the books. A twisted, chaotic, anxiety-inducing, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

And now, it’s a memory.

One that I’m sharing with you.

Because life doesn’t come with a manual, but if it did, mine would be written in the strangest, most twisted font imaginable.

                                             source :VOI

Let’s Talk!

Have you ever had a moment where life threw you into an unexpected cultural experience? Or maybe your first period story was just as chaotic as mine?

Drop a comment below and share your experiences—I’d love to hear them! And if you enjoy my twisted tales, don’t forget to subscribe and stick around for more. Let’s embrace this chaos together!

Until next time,
Pavithra~

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Embracing the Chaos: Welcome to MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL .

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Welcome to MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL.

                                                       source : iStock  

Life doesn’t come with a manual, but if it did, mine would be written in the strangest, most twisted font imaginable. Some chapters would be hilarious, others downright chaotic, and a few would leave you wondering how I even made it this far. But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? The unexpected turns, the highs, the lows, and the moments that shape us into who we are.

Who Am I?

I’m Pavithra—a storyteller, an overthinker, and someone who has learned to find beauty in life’s chaos. I’ve always been drawn to the raw and unfiltered side of life, the part people don’t always talk about. Through this blog, I hope to give those moments a voice, to share the good, the bad, and the beautifully twisted.

Why MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL?

                                                 source : iStock

Because life is messy. Because sometimes, the best way to heal is to write it all out. This blog is my unfiltered space to share life’s unexpected turns, raw emotions, and the occasional sarcasm-filled rant. Whether it’s personal stories, mental health struggles, self-discovery, or lessons learned the hard way, you’ll find it all here—with a little bit of dark humor to keep things interesting.

What You Can Expect

Expect raw honesty, a little bit of poetry, unexpected plot twists, and the occasional life advice that even I struggle to follow. Some days, it’ll be deep reflections, other days, a humorous take on life’s absurdity. Either way, I promise it’ll be real.

Join the Chaos

If you’ve ever felt like life is one big rollercoaster—messy, unpredictable, and sometimes a little too fast—then you’re in the right place. Let’s embrace the chaos together. Stick around, drop a comment, share your own stories, or just silently nod along as you read.

Welcome to MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL. Let the journey begin.

                                                 

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