Waiting for a flight from London to Berlin
I’m afraid of flying. There. I said it. People who know me well know this truth about myself. Or rather, they’ve accompanied me on a flight where I’ve broken their fingers and the cat was out of the bag.
I can almost pin point the actual flight where my fear started. This is actually quite a new phenomenon to me. Prior to living in London I had partaken in dozens of flights, some of them long haul, others quick three-hour trips “across the ditch” (i.e New Zealand to Australia). I’ve never been comfortable during take off but my anxiety always eased substantially once we were in the air.
And then sometime around October 2010 things got a little bit out of hand. Kristy and I flew to Dublin from London and for the first time I felt genuinely petrified I was going to die. I held her hand the whole way while she slept. And the pattern continued. Barcelona 2012 and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the plane was going to fall out of the sky. February 2012 a bunch of us flew to Morocco and we took off in snow. I shook the whole way to Marrakesh. And then, for the first time, July 2012 en route to Bilbao, I cried.
It was the last hour of the flight and the turbulence had reached epic proportions. I hadn’t been sitting next to Mel so the stranger sitting next to me very kindly started talking to me, obviously trying to distract me from what I thought was our impending doom. Obviously I was mortified and couldn’t look him in the eye when we landed.
The last six months my fear has abated somewhat. I’m not entirely sure why. In fact, I’m at a loss to pinpoint where the fear came from in the first place. I’ve read a lot of articles on the psychology behind the fear. Experts generally agree that rather then being afraid of the actual flight, people associate flying with some other traumatic experience (no kidding- like dying?) . For example, being away from family.
Nonetheless I still feel apprehension during the first, oh I don’t know, hour or so of a flight. And here’s the thing. Fear isn’t logical. You can’t rationalise it by repeating car crash statistics to yourself. As much as people try to repeat this information to me it has never sunk in. In the end I’ve developed my own coping methods for flying.
Here are my tips for landing with your sanity still in tact.
Early morning flight essentials- coffee and juice. 9am Lauderdale to LAX.
Distract yourself
In order for this to work, you have to really focus. The temptation to fling your book or earphones away and stare out the window searching for a mythical colonial woman will be great. But do persevere. Personally, I like to read. Even if I read the same line ten times over. Even if I finish the entire book and have no idea what the main character’s name was, eventually you will start to feel yourself relax. You just have to train yourself.
Everything is fine.. everything is fine.. everything is fine..
Soothe yourself
I’m also terrified of needles. One day I had to get a blood test at the hospital which is always, always a theatrical performance on my behalf. This time though my best friend Kate shoved some earphones in my ear and switched on her iPod and funnily enough the music helped. I rocked out to Crazy Town’s Butterfly while the nurse looked for a vein and I pretended I was in a Tom Cruise film. The same principle applies for me for flying. I listen to music the whole flight. The purpose is two-fold. It will distract and relax you while at the same time blocking out any of those all too disturbing aeroplane noises .
Taking off at Miami International, Argentina bound
Pray
Yep, pray. I only pray on aeroplanes. Usually just before take off and sometimes a small thank you afterwards. Rather bizarrely it helps ten fold. I feel like I’m relinquishing a little bit of control and whatever happens, is meant to happen. Hey, it can’t hurt right?
“She’s got a ticket to ride… and she don’t care.”
Pretend
On a flight to London from Edinburgh my friend Georgie told me she feels the same way about flying as she does about taking a car trip. So from then on, I started to pretend I was in a car. I’d pretend we were on the ground, any bumps were potholes and any sudden turns were bends (I hate, hate, hate it when the plane turns. I worry that it will tip over. No joke). Whatever your thing is – cars, motorbikes, boats, pretend you’re anywhere but on a plane. It helps.
Pink comfy pants make me happy on a long haul to Argentina…
Treat yourself
I try to start my vacation as soon as I get on the plane. I buy my favorite over-priced Vanity Fair at the airport. I spritz myself with a gorgeous perfume at duty free. If it’s a long haul I’ll change into my pajamas or track pants as soon as possible. I pack chocolate and I’ll have a wine (or three) with dinner. Think of flying as a privilege rather than a chore.
Go on, just do it anyway
Feel the fear and do it anyway
At the end of the day, most of the time we’re flying because we’ve got a great vacation planned at the other end. This is the most important thing to remember. I am never going to give up travel because of a stupid fear and it’s this thought that gives me back that little bit of control I lose when my life is in the captain’s hands.
