Flight Anxiety

‘Your flight is available for check-in’ beeps the text reminding me I have another trip on the horizon. I’ve done my fair share of flying, been at it for years: one constant, anxiety, that strange sense, a queasiness in my gut. There are times when I don’t realize I’m anxious till I start to pack.

Whatever the trigger, I’ve finally determined that this is something I need to address, and deal with. Part of the delay in getting to this point is attributable to not having the realization I had a problem if that is what it should be referred to as.

As mentioned, I’ve flown many miles, almost around the world this year alone. I’ve been on planes the equivalent of a Toyota Prius, a tin can, as well as the Jumbo Jet when it was a thing. Stupidly, I was young then, and I missed my chance to take the Concorde a while back from London to New York. Now that would have been a highlight.

Landing on the tops of mountains in storms in a plane that actually had wiper blades that looked like they came off said Prius. Will never forget the ‘perfect landing’, the only one I’ve ever experienced, on a flight to Hawaii, bringing the entire plane to its collective feet, well they would have barring those pesky seatbelts. Most announce their arrival with a solid thump.

I’ve taken a few flying lessons out of the Santa Monica Airport on a single-engine Cessna. While discussing being up in the air, I also, briefly I might add, did some hang-gliding, prior to the improvements in the tech. The hang-gliders back then were just large kites.

The point? Flying doesn’t scare me. Never has, fact is I love looking out the window, looking down on those tiny boxcars, buildings, and even mountains that no longer appear insurmountable. I’m kinda like a kid once up there.

Google Earth is one of my favorite tools giving me a better perspective when I map out trips. Simply put I’d like to come back as a soaring Ruppell’s Griffon Vulture, okay maybe not that since it’s a bit gnarly looking, but a Crane, better yet, an Eagle, a bald-headed one would be okay since it seems I’m heading there anyway?

Most high flyers, by the way, are geese which makes sense given they tend to do a lot of traveling themselves. I pity the poor goose suffering from flying anxiety.

So this, no doubt, isn’t helping any of you who are afraid of flying, either height or leaving the ground for a reason. I know some, and I sympathize. It’s, as you can see, not my issue. ‘Then what, on earth, could it be?’ you ask, brow raised. Well, I’ll tell you. Seems my problem has to do with commitment. Not the kind you’re thinking, although I haven’t considered this. Now is not the time, will need to get back to that.

What I mean is, I’ve booked a ticket, now I’m obliged to show up, not be late. Finally, I realized ‘This is what gets me!’ Pretty weird I’ll admit, doesn’t change the feeling, getting it right now, as a matter-of-fact, since I have a flight tomorrow and, of course, I’m writing about it, baring my soul.

So, what to do? Don’t, fly — not gonna happen, don’t pack — great idea, forgo the text messages/reminders that way I’ll reduce the worrying to when it gets closer to flight time. My fear stems from somewhere, hard to pinpoint as I don’t recall missing a flight by being late. Since I haven’t figured it out, may never for all I know, I’ve come up with a plan to help mitigate it.

The plan, besides the breathing techniques or other recommended treatments, is an attempt at being rational. I talk to myself, telling myself that anxious part all will be well if I prepare. The feeling is absolutely emotional, with no practical application whatsoever. Yes I could miss the flight, shit happens I’ve heard, yet I never have.

So it’s back to the planning. Pack early, have everything at the ready, clothes, toiletries, books, phone, wallet, etc. no need to be fretting when it’s time to head out. Leave plenty of time for processing at the airport. When possible I’ll book flights that don’t require me to be at the airport at the crack of dawn adding the stress of getting up in time. Either way, I still set the alarm. Granted I have a more flexible schedule than most. I need to do what works for me.

I’m going to continue to travel, so many remarkable places still to see. I’m not close to being ‘cured’ (who eats ham anyway) but finding I am able to cope. When sitting comfortably, well that’s not happening should I find myself in economy, in my seat, I remind myself how it all worked out, how I’m here now, would have been okay not to have gotten anxious, as we soar, one more time, into that bright blue yonder, onto that next adventure.