Traveling With Insomnia Explained

With winter break coming up—Yeshiva week, family trips, a little time off—you might already feel that familiar twist in your chest. For some, a break equals rest. For others, it equals travel insomnia.

Take Dalia, a mom of four. Her family lives in Europe, and her parents have a cozy house in upstate New York that she used to love visiting on extended weekends. She traveled a lot, and for years, she genuinely enjoyed these trips—the packing, the drive, the comfort of her parents’ home, the excitement of a little getaway.

But now… everything has changed. The moment she and her family start planning a trip, panic begins to creep in. And it’s not even when she’s leaving the house—it starts during the planning itself. Just thinking about the trip—the flights, the suitcases, the unfamiliar nights—makes her chest tighten, her stomach knot, and her mind race.

Her heart pounds. Her muscles tense. Thoughts flood her mind: “I won’t sleep… What if I can’t function tomorrow… How will I survive the first night?” Every small detail of the trip—what she’ll pack, when she’ll leave, how the kids will behave—spins into a vortex of anxiety. Images of planes, snowy cabins, or even magazine photos of cozy beds trigger a wave of panic.

She feels embarrassed, too. She knows, logically, that she sleeps perfectly at home. She knows she is overreacting. And yet, she can’t control the surge of fear. She worries what her family will think of her panic. “Why can’t I just enjoy this like everyone else?” The thought of judgment adds another layer to the anxiety, pressing on her chest like a weight.

When the trip finally arrives, the first night is brutal. Dalia lies awake, staring at the ceiling, heart racing, muscles stiff, listening to every little sound in the unfamiliar room. She glances at the clock repeatedly, counting minutes, imagining all the ways the night could go wrong. Thoughts spiral: “I’ll ruin the trip for everyone… I’ll be exhausted and snappy… I can’t handle tomorrow.”

She tosses and turns, restless, frustrated, panicked. Every sound—the creak of a floorboard, the hum of a heater, the wind against the window—feels amplified, a reminder that this is not home. She feels powerless, trapped by her own mind, completely at the mercy of her body’s response.

Her family notices her distress. Her husband and children are confused and worried. She feels guilty, ashamed, and frustrated with herself. She knows they are looking forward to this weekend, and yet she is carrying the burden of panic and sleeplessness. It’s not just sleep—it's fear, exhaustion, and embarrassment combined, all intensified by the short, precious nature of the weekend.

What’s Actually Happening

What Dalia is experiencing is entirely normal, even if it feels terrifying. When we face something new, unpredictable, or different, our brains interpret it as a potential threat. This is true even for people who sleep well at home.

Her body is responding automatically:

• Heart racing—her autonomic nervous system is on high alert.

• Muscle tension—her shoulders, jaw, and neck tighten in preparation for danger.

• Sweaty palms and shallow breathing—her body is activating its stress response.

• Racing thoughts—her mind scans for threats, running through worst-case scenarios.

• Cortisol and stress hormones surging—preparing her body for “fight or flight.”

  
  

This state, called hyperarousal, is the brain doing exactly what it is designed to do: protect us. The problem is, in insomnia, the brain doesn’t realize that its “protection” is actually keeping her awake and on high alert.

Her brain thinks it’s keeping her safe, but the very same responses—racing heart, tense muscles, spinning thoughts—make sleep impossible and amplify panic. It’s a well-meaning brain with the wrong map, doing its job perfectly… but against her rest.

The fear isn’t about the trip itself. It’s about uncertainty and lack of control. Her brain does not know how she will sleep, how her body will respond, or what unexpected events might occur. Even though she logically knows she will survive and that most things will be fine, her brain reacts to unpredictability as if it were a threat.

The more Dalia ruminates on the fear, the stronger it becomes. Her body amplifies the hyperarousal, her thoughts spiral faster, and her mind becomes more convinced that disaster is inevitable. This is why she feels trapped, exhausted, and embarrassed—even before she leaves home.

It’s also worth noting that even people without insomnia sometimes struggle with sleep when traveling. Beds are different, noises are unfamiliar, rooms feel odd. The difference for someone like Dalia is that her brain perceives the uncertainty as a higher-level threat, amplifying the body’s physical and mental stress response.

Her panic is not a personal failing.

It is a perfectly normal physiological and psychological reaction to uncertainty and a new environment. Recognizing this—seeing that her racing heart, tense muscles, and spinning thoughts are all messages from her brain trying to protect her—helps make sense of an overwhelming experience that might otherwise feel completely uncontrollable.

Traveling with insomnia can feel isolating, exhausting, and completely out of control. But understanding what is happening inside the mind and body provides clarity. It is not that Dalia is weak or failing. She is responding naturally to uncertainty. Every racing thought, every anxious moment, every sleepless hour is the brain doing exactly what it is designed to do: keeping her alert and safe in the face of the unknown—even if it’s keeping her awake instead of letting her rest.

For more about real-life travel sleep struggles, you can read about how Molly experienced and navigated travel insomnia here: read more here.

If you’re traveling soon and dreading it because you know you won’t sleep, and just want someone to talk it through, we can chat: Book a 30-minute session here.