An Aerial Weakness

Hello.  My name is the Little Merskank, and I have a problem.  A problem with flying.

So, it all started about a year ago.  I have always enjoyed flying—seeing the ground go by below, all that free time to yourself, free bubbly beverages.  But this flight was different.  Half way from Toronto to my destination on the west coast the plane started experiencing extreme turbulence.  Now, looking back, I know that everything was fine.  What do they say—‘turbulence is a matter of comfort, not safety’.  But the fact was that it was rough enough that people on the flight were screaming and glasses were breaking in the stewardess compartment.  And I was scared.  Really scared

Somehow that flight was a marker point.  I feel like there was a little switch related to flying in my brain that flipped from ‘safe’ to ‘not safe’.  The next couple flights after that I was a little nervous, afraid to have to relive the fear I had felt before.  But over the next months the problem escalated.  Rather than just being nervous now, if I were self diagnosing, I would say I have developed a full blown phobia of flying.  And it sucks.

It sucks first, because I happen to go to school in England—thousands of miles away from my friends, family, and two dogs.  So not flying is not really an option.   Take Christmas for example.  I knew that there was a 10 hour flight between me and my home (and that was direct, which I don’t normally fly, so really I was being spoiled).  But I started worrying about it, dreading it, like… a month in advance.  I would try to do exercises to prepare myself for the plane, I would give myself pep talks on how it would be fine… but still I was freaked.  Partially it was knowledge that the ride is so long.  If you have a fear like this you often start getting afraid of being afraid: and 10 hours, panicked, with no way out, is not fun.  Yet by sheer force of will I got myself on that plane, although when we hit moderately severe turbulence over Greenland (Greenland is always a bugbear), I descended into blubbering mass, crying on Percival’s shoulder—who was seated next to me.

So yeah, flying for me sucks first because, well it sucks.  But it also sucks because I feel so ashamed of this fear.  I know it is irrational.  Sure, something bad can happen to you in a plane, but something bad can happen to you in a train too, or in a bus which is actually way more dangerous.  I know.   More generally, I feel bad because I feel like even if the plane goes down, I shouldn’t be afraid.  The worst that happens is you die, right?  And I know that God loves me, and will always be beside me—so really, what’s to fear?  And yet I am afraid, which makes me feel like I am a weak, disappointing person.  A coward.

Having this fear has helped me be more compassionate to people with other types of phobias.  There are people out there in the world afraid of ridiculous things… like crowds, or heights, or spiders.  Now, I don’t mean nervous around them, but honestly, very afraid.  And it is ridiculous—just like fear of flying is ridiculous.  But when you are afraid it feels out of your control.    As a force of will, I can make myself walk on that plane.  But can I make myself not afraid of it?  I am not sure.  When you have anxiety, or I imagine, a full blown panic attack, it is like your body creates a hormonal response and adrenaline floods your system.  It can feel very difficult to fight that.

But yeah.  So, I guess I am afraid of flying.  Although, I like to hope that on this last flight I hit rock bottom and can only go up.  At least, I feel that way until I hear internet accounts of people like the guy who was breathing into an oxygen mask mid-flight when he had a true panic attack, and hears the kid next to him ask ‘Momma, is that guy dying?’

Well, at least I am not there yet.  And honestly, I think things will get better.  I am hoping I can look back on 2013 as the year I hated flying. 2014—here I come!

Is anyone else afraid of flying?  Or of something else?  Please share your stories.