When I went to the airline website, it was pretty
self-explanatory. I picked the day and time for departure for Denver, and then
selected my preferred return flight. There was an option for a package, so I
clicked that and it walked me through hotel reservations and a car rental.
After some investigating, I made my selections. Easy peasy.
I made it to the end of the reservation page without any
hesitation. I clicked “next”. It listed all my reserved choices and it asked me
to confirm. I looked it all over, it looked correct, so I clicked “next”,
again. I entered my credit card information, email, and other required data,
and then clicked “next”.
The next page gave me instant anxiety. Besides my confirmed
reservations, I noticed the “Book now” button. I thought, “This is it? That’s
all I have to do?” It crossed my mind that I could still back out. I haven’t
paid for anything yet. Not until I click the button, that is.
I got up from my chair and took a breather. What was I
doing? My biggest fear in the world is flying. It's a debilitating fear. Before you roll your eyes, let
me explain.
I travelled to Florida by plane with my mom when I was 12.
We took a cruise to the Bahamas. I loved flying, and I never gave it a second
thought. In 1988, I flew to Houston with other gymnasts for the Olympic Trials
and trained with Bela Karolyi (Mary Lou Retton’s Coach) for a week. We had a
layover in St. Louis both ways. I never had an ounce of worry.
I didn’t fly again until 2000. Mom and I took a
mother/daughter trip to Las Vegas. Let me tell you. I couldn’t sleep the night
before. “It’s only a 4 hour trip”, she’d said. That was not helping. There was
no consoling me. Once we arrived at the airport, I didn’t render any external
attacks that drew attention (that came later). Once we boarded, I failed to
hide my panic. I sat down in the aisle seat. Mom said that I could sit by the
window since most people preferred it. I gave her a silent look that read,
“Umm, no. I DO NOT want to look out of the window. Are you crazy?”
I sat glued to my seat, white knuckled, for 4 hours. My mom
tried to speak to me a few times. She was met with short answers and a couple,
“Shhh’s”. I was trying to focus on not freaking out. I think I passed out for
about 20 minutes at one point, and then woke up to the continued nightmare. As
the plane banked around the well-lit city, mom gasped at the beauty below and
told me to look out the window to see all the lights (we were on a red eye
flight). I slightly opened one eye to take a peak. I quietly murmured, ‘mmhmm’,
and then went on with the task of keeping my eyes closed.
When we arrived in Vegas and got off the plane, I bent down
to kiss the floor. I didn’t really care how disgusting it was. I was keenly
aware that I had two feet on the ground once again. And I didn’t really care who
was looking.
That trip to Vegas was before 911 so I can only attribute my
fear to the Final Destination movie or all the stories I’ve heard about
crashes. I’ve always said I’m not afraid of flying, just the falling out of the
sky part. The logical part of me says that I’ll be fine. The other logical part
of me says that there isn’t any reason why my feet need to leave the ground.
Something that heavy, an airplane, shouldn’t be able to soar through the air.
Reality, science, engineering, and physics provide logic, in this case.
(Doesn’t mean I agree with it, but that still doesn’t make it false) See? My
mind is in constant battle with my illogical fear and science.
I went back to my chair and reluctantly pressed the “Book
now” button. My heart rate immediately escalated as did my breathing. What have
I done? That was the only thing I could press through my mind. I reminded
myself that the trip was a long time from now and I’d be okay.
To fly, I have to give up control. My 1980’s trips were
before I knew what it was like to comprehend control or responsibility. By
2000, I was an adult with two kids I was raising alone. When you have to maintain
a job, raise kids, live in the big city (Indianapolis), and the only person you
can rely on is yourself, you learn to take charge fairly quickly.
Being a woman
with no high school diploma and obviously no further education, you do what you
have to do. Meanwhile, I developed the inability to relinquish control. And
it isn’t so much about control as it is the automatic ability to just “do” or
don’t do. With automatic responses come the need to keep structure and routine.
A break in either doesn’t usually factor into life except when you have to let
go of the control. It’s like dropping a ball when you’re juggling.
Sometime after our Vegas trip (I know it was after the Vegas trip because while at the Grand Canyon, I
stood edge to toe at the steepest drop-off point), I developed a fear of
heights. Oh my goofness, that doesn’t help with the flying fear. I actually
didn’t realize I had that fear until my family and I took a trip to Chicago in
2008’ish. We were all planning to go to the top of the Sears/Willis tower. I
declined when I thought about how far up it was. I played it off as if it was
too expensive. In reality, it was then that I questioned this fear.
My fear of heights was reactivated when my best friend and I
took a ride to the top of the Empire State Building in 2012 (we went to NYC by
train). I had to hold her hand, squeeze my eyes shut, purse my lips, and pray
the cables didn’t give out before we reached the top. 45 seconds. It took 45
seconds, or in other words, an eternity (I
had to do it. Seeing the sunset at the top was on my bucket list). I have
no idea where this fear came from. I’ll keep searching for the origin, because
I have to kill these fears at the root.
The quickest way that I’ve learned to overcome any of my
fears is to face them. I won’t get into the others, as they pale in comparison.
This year has been a year of looking my fears head on as they surface. I don’t
back down. So what better time to face the scariest fear I possess?
As I said in my prior blog, I’ve wanted to run away from
home for a long time. Both of my children are on their own at the moment, so I
figured, why not? Taking a solo trip has been a bucket list item for a long
time. When I knew the boy would be leaving, I got the bright idea to pursue the
dream, look fear in the face, and overcome. 
Meanwhile, my trip is 4 days away. I’ve taken
about 3 breaks while writing this blog because even talking about flying gives
me severe anxiety. My heart can’t take it anymore, so until the next blog, God
bless!