In honor of Thanksgiving this month, I have decided to take some time to reflect on the past years accomplishments, lessons and experiences. Many of my friends are posting daily notes this month stating things they are thankful for, which got me thinking and reflecting about the past year and what I have conquered. It has undoubtedly been one of the toughest years of my adult life, but I find myself sitting here in November (seriously November? I’m certain that the first day of Spring – conveniently my birthday as well – was just last week) looking back at all of the challenges this year has brought and finding myself in a state of happiness and contentment I haven’t felt in a long time. A testament to the fact that sometimes you have to endure serious hardships in order to gain true happiness and appreciation for what you have. ~ “Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors."
I have clearly failed miserably, yet again, at successfully blogging about my life and travels in 2011 but will aim to write a series of reflections and thankful tributes over the next month in honor of Thanksgiving; one of my favorite holidays. Onto the first entry:
Biggest Fear Conquered!
Well, it was until July 14th. Anyone who knows me, knows that I have a serious phobia of flying. I have tried to pinpoint when and why this fear developed since it didn’t plague me when I was young. The only thing I can trace it to is a neighbor who died in the USAir Flight 427 crash in Pittsburgh back in 1994 when I was in 7th grade. I remember listening to the radio in my bedroom when the details were broadcast and later finding out that our neighbor down the street was on the plane. We weren’t particularly close with these neighbors, however I used to play at their house every now and then. I’ll never forget our immediate next door neighbor saying it took him hours to look out the window and see if my dads car was in the driveway. (My dad traveled for work constantly) So whether it was the realization that my dads frequent flying meant he could die or just the fact that it was a crash in our hometown that claimed a neighbors life, I think this was the start of my fear of flying.
Fast forward a few years to my senior year in high school when my mom and I had planned a trip to Atlanta for my great Aunt’s 80th birthday. I begged my mom to let us drive so as to avoid flying but a 13 hour drive from Pittsburgh to Atlanta for a two day trip wasn’t her idea of a good time, so it was off to the airport we went. I begged to get drugs from the Dr. before we left but sucked it up and was actually a good sport that morning. About an hour into the flight we are informed that we had lost one of our engines and were turned around heading back to Pittsburgh. Cue me hyproventilating and demanding we land somewhere in Virginia, where we likely were, rather than going an hour back to Pittsburgh. Obviously we made it back fine….and my mom took her lunatic daughter to TCBY rather than on the next flight to Atlanta. Result = phobia of flying greatly increased.
Fast forward to present day when I get myself into a job that requires constant travel. Until this year, I was still plagued by my phobia. Every trip I dealt with horrendous anxiety and fear. I completely understand that it is an irrational fear and for the love of everything holy, I know that flying is xxx times safer than driving. But as sad as it is, one statistic (that everyone has a different definition of) doesn’t really make me feel better. Sorry! My boss was always baffled at how I went on with my job/traveling and I too questioned how much longer I could do my job and deal with the fear. Again, I know it is irrational and sounds ridiculous but every single time I got on a flight, I truly thought I was going to die. To put it in perspective, I was on 59 flights last year and am at 53 to date this year….that’s a lot of time spent thinking about dying! I also dealt with dreams on at least a monthly basis where I was in or witnessed a plane crash. It got to the point where I was finally going to go to a Dr. and see about getting some anti-anxiety medication (which would have made for really interesting sales calls post flights/medicine consumption!) but really didn’t want to go that route. I am extremely stubborn when it comes to Dr.’s and medicine. I’m not anti-medicine but do think the world is way over-medicated these days and basically chalk it up to being ridiculously stubborn and thick headed.
For one reason or another, I kept putting off going to the Dr. and early this year I gradually started to realize that my fears and anxiety were dissipating. I no longer had the cold sweats prior to take off, the death grips around the arm rests (there are a lot of Delta seats out there with gorgeous imprints of my hands) or the disturbing thoughts of falling out of the sky and how I would escape a firey tube of metal. All of a sudden, my fear was virtually gone. The only thing I can attribute it to is the constant traveling and the routine of going in and out of airports, getting through a security line as fast as possible (one of my key talents) and the continual boarding and unboarding of planes. Routine is the key word here. It is now such a frequent part of my life that it is only a routine to me and any thought processes about it are virtually non-existent. Like driving to work every day; I get in my car each morning and 50 minutes later I’m at my office. I don’t remember paying attention to the turns or what traffic lights I got stopped at…I just do it out of memory and because it’s something I have to do every day. Needless to say, when I came to the realization early this year that I had kicked my phobia in the hiney, it made life and travel so much more pleasant. I was so proud of myself! Then July 14th rolled around….
I was enjoying our family beach vacation outside of Jacksonville, FL when Thursday rolled around and I, for the first time in 30 years, had to leave family beach week early for a work trip in Vancouver and Whistler. Boarded my flight from JAX to ATL and settled in for a long night of travel with no confirmed business class upgrades (self admitted travel snob extraordinaire!). I remember being oddly jittery for this flight. Maybe it was the disappointment of leaving family vaca early or the depression of flying coach all night, but I had an uneasy feeling nonetheless. Less than 10 minutes after take-off I heard and felt what sounded like a cannon explode. Immediately I knew we had just lost an engine and my old fears and worst case scenarios came flooding back. I know planes can land on one engine (I had already survived one!) and I knew we hadn’t traveled far and could be back to JAX quickly, but nothing can erase that initial feeling of “this is it.” I’m sure there are many people out there who have been in the same situation, or worse, and don’t have those feelings but I am not able to control those thoughts. I really can’t describe it. I sat there looking out the window, heart pounding out of my chest thinking that this was it for me and how lucky I was that I had gotten to spend my last week with my entire family. The constant prayers of ‘please let us land’ and ‘please let it be pain free’ begin. We ended up flying in circles around the airport at a ridiculously low altitude for at least 25 minutes while the fire trucks and emergency vehicles assembled on the runway. (Major FAIL for the JAX emergency response team.) There was a girls soccer team on the flight and they all started singing Happy Birthday to one of their teammates in case this was the last birthday. That’s when the tears came. Eventually we landed, the entire plane erupts in applause and then I really start crying. Literally trembling, I call my cousin to send someone to come pick me up. There was no way I could get on another flight that night.
Faced with three connections the next day (all guaranteed first class though) and worried that my phobia was back with a vengeance, I was unsure if I could do it. But, I knew the only way to move forward was to get back on the saddle asap and get on my flights to the west coast. Certainly the nerves were a little unraveled the next day but I was surprised to find myself relatively calm. I quickly realized I held the key this time as to whether I would allow my phobia to resurface or keep it at bay. Surprised by the control over the situation I felt, I told myself that the odds of engine explosions happening to a person two days in a row had to be 10 billion to 1, thus I was essentially guaranteed a safe journey to Vancouver. A week later as I started the journey back home, I again told myself that the odds of engine explosions happening to a person twice within a week had to be 9 billion to 1, thus I would get home safely. And so my mindset has continued throughout the rest of the year in order to keep my phobia at bay.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get the occasional heart palpitation in conjunction with turbulence but I am happy to say that despite a bump in the air (hahaha) I am THANKFUL that I’ve been able to keep my fear of flying at bay and will leave 2011 proud to have overcome this fear.
Great writing Bek! I'm so proud of you!
ReplyDeletexoxoxo