As I sat in the food court of the Sacramento airport yesterday, I watched the people around me eating sandwiches and pizza. They chased their food down with beers and large bottles of water. I eavesdropped on their laughter and conversations about taxis or the Warriors basketball game. And I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand of self-pity.  I envied their ease. I over-analyzed my own inability to enter an airport with the same absent-mindedness as the people around me. Somewhere along the way, I think around five years ago, my anxiety started following me into airports and airplanes like a creepy stalker trying to tag along on vacation. It’s really lame. Especially because I grew up traveling with my family and have been on countless anxiety-free flights in my past. I know I am capable of flying. I know I have the physiological and psychological ability to be nonchalant and calm. And yet. This is one of the most frustrating traits of anxiety. The self-awareness. You can be in the middle of …