Prompt: write about a particular time where you felt anxious

We were at thirty thousand feet when I awoke in a huff and a panic, my leather seat sticky and warm. I fidgeted and adjusted myself in an attempt to find a comfier spot but failed in doing so, rubbing the back of my neck and acknowledging the sheer pain that sitting still for too long was causing. My skeleton ached and my stomach groaned and gargled, anxious of things to come.
I was stationed in an aisle seat, which meant I could stretch my long legs down the walkway and at least find a little solace in the lower half of my body, but it was no good. I hurt. My mouth was congealed and my breath stale with the taste of cheap red wine and a packaged chicken dinner served well over five hours ago. I assumed that it probably wasn’t chicken, but rather a chemically produced substitute that had a shelf life longer than canned beans. I didn’t question it.
The white noise of the plane engine droned and the cabin lights shone a blue hue that gave everything a dull haze; it put my mind in an uneasy state of limbo. I rubbed my stomach and looked around, soaking in the variety of characters that surrounded me. Everyone was dressed in clothes they’d normally be too embarrassed to wear in front of strangers. Hot pants, tattered old shirts and crocs, it was a sight to see. Everyone’s true selves were revealed. Nobody wore makeup. The abundance of eye masks made it feel like some sort of dystopian movie, as if these humans were powering down and recharging, their masks the source of new energy.
I looked across my neighbours and out of the window to my left to see complete blackness, disturbed only by the steady blink of the plane light at the end of the wing. The Atlantic wasn’t visible, but I could feel it’s cold heart below, teasing and taunting me.
My stomach gargled again. I was glad to be leaving London behind and moving on to new and exciting adventures, but I couldn’t help but question what it was I was doing, and why the heck I’d decided to do it. Love, job security, family… it was all a thing of the past now. Gone in a flash. I was alone.
I’d occasionally catch myself out, looking subconsciously back and towards the rear of the plane for no real reason, almost as if I were looking back at my life up until now and seeing what it was I was leaving behind. I fidgeted again, this time knocking the knee of the person sitting in the seat next to me and waking them abruptly. My heart sank a little, knowing all too well that I’d upset the person I had to endure for another six hours.
‘Hey,’ he said with clear annoyance in his tone. ‘You OK?’
I stared straight ahead and focused on the screen implanted in the headrest in front.
‘I think I might be sick,’ I replied.
