My bad trip – I took a voyage of self-discovery, but the self I discovered was a total buzzkill

‘Without question, the biggest enemy to my backpacking bliss was myself. My self-pity was tangible. It was syrup and I bathed in it.’ Photograph: frankiefotografie/Getty Images/iStockphoto

It was meant to be a voyage of self-discovery. But two days before I left, my boyfriend dumped me. The self I discovered was a total buzzkill.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he swore, but I was crying my 21-year-old heart out in the front seat of an Uber as we wove through East Fremantle – a panic attack playing peekaboo in my gut.