To the people who can't understand this first hand, it's hard to explain the exact feelings a self-diagnosed travel addict will go through during a "normal" period in their life -- that is when they are stuck in the day-to-day routine, rather than walking through new and unfamiliar surroundings and meeting diverse people from different and distant places.

Change is often a normal person's biggest fear. It's only natural because with the fear of change comes the fear of the unknown, failure, isolation and new situations. To a person addicted to travel, the opposite holds true; routine feels like a suffocating pain that can only be eased by change and soaking in the new and unknown. It's the change of environment, pace, culture, people, foods and every day living that keeps us going and ultimately brings us joy and purpose.

The travel bug is merciless and the unsuspecting victims who fall sick to its' infection are those from all backgrounds and different walks of life. He has no preference in who he attacks and with zero remorse, the infection will overtake the lives of all who it contaminates. It doesn't matter if you've stepped foot into the foreign soil of one place or that of 50 new places -- it only takes one time to change your life.

Falling ill to this disease is the best and worst thing to have ever happened to me. You don't realize it at first because the symptoms start out small, but slowly you begin to realize you're not the same person you were before wanderlust took over. Daydreams of trekking through the humid, tropical forests of Brazil, snorkeling in the blue waters of the Philippines, visiting temples in Thailand, walking down the streets of New York City, skydiving over New Zealand and imagining making friends from Mexico, Germany, Australia and China take over every previous non-related travel thought you could have ever had. When you aren't daydreaming about your future adventures, you're reminiscing on your old ones. Half of the time, the amazing things you experienced and the beautiful places you saw don't even seem real anymore; but you know for a fact that they happened because your life continued to change after each experience.

The symptoms continue to manifest and soon enough you get more excited about receiving coupons from REI than you do to get coupons from Victoria's Secret. Coming across a perfect backpack gives you more butterflies than the latest designer hand bag. Choosing not to buy that new outfit so you can instead put that money towards your travel fund seems to make more sense than ever before. You start cleaning out your room and closet, showing no mercy during the removal process because you've already shifted into the minimalist mindset. Then later, instead of just daydreaming about these adventures, you begin to look up flights and create itineraries for these unknown territories for which you will make sure to visit.

Being a self-diagnosed travel addict while living the normal life of going to school, going to work, then back home for bed to repeat the process again the next day is torture. No longer am I content to stay in one place for too long and live in routine. No longer is it enough to just continue doing what I've always done in life. Whether it's a flight to the other side of the world, a road trip across a couple states from home or a few hours drive away to an unfamiliar city, travel has become a priority in my life ever since I was first bit by the travel bug and I know for a fact it always will be.

When I tell people I'm going out of town and they respond, "You're leaving again? Where are you going now?" realization slaps me in the face that I do a pretty good job at treating my disease. Despite work, school and obligations here at home, I make the time to do what makes me happiest and get away from familiarity when I can.

There's no doubt that traveling can sometimes be frustrating, downright exhausting and cost a pretty penny but the payoff is worth any of the negatives or sacrifices that come along with it.

"If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; it's lethal" - Paulo Coelho