I never use to be afraid of flying but as I prepare to fly home to Northern Ireland for Christmas, suddenly the meat sweats start materializing all over my body and I gulp that little bit harder.
To me, it’s just something about being trapped in a tiny little tube 30,000ft up in the clouds with nowhere to go but physically downwards which gets me all clammy all over. But the weird thing is I never use to be this way.
They say alot of fears are formed through triggers, bad experiences in the past which you now associate with the thing you fear now. I think back in my memory bank to a possible time when I lost my faith in aviation, flashbacks ranging from mucky microwave meals onflight to screaming babies ring a bell but surely neither of these would result in me clamping onto the Easyjet seat for dear life.
My brow furrows some more as I go further back in time, I’ve got it. It was the time of the storm. Heading back to university in Bristol, UK, on a miserable January evening, it was dark, windy, kind of like that scene out of one of the final destination movies. No sooner were we up in the air than did the plane decide to embody all things rollercoaster, or shall I say fighter pilot. One second the metal tube was shaking like a frostbitten child the next it was plummeting like an Olympic diver. I thought it was the end.
Women were screaming, babies were crying, I swear one old man had a heart attack. Let’s just say you know sh*t hits the fan when the trolley dolly falls into the empty seat beside you while knocking over the hot coffee on the cart in the process. She sprinted to her seat so fast after that, she would’ve made Usain Bolt look like a tortoise, believe me.
The plane continued to wreak havoc on its inhabitants for what felt like a lifetime but must’ve only been the WHOLE damn journey, totalling 50 mins! I almost had to seek counselling after the event.
So there you have it, I’ve developed a fear, like allergies, they can be developed, and like allergies they can be lost. So I’ll make it a goal to lose the fear and become fond of flying once again.
What’s your biggest fear?
The Neon Squid 