My Fear of Flying

The first time I ever flew, I was a Camp Fire Girl. We flew over to Catalina on a sea plane. I got to ride up front with the pilot. It was a thrilling trip. We came home on a glass bottom boat. But, the plane ride was the best. I loved flying.

The next time I flew, I was about 24. My boyfriend had been on a short lived game show called Press Your Luck. He won a ton of free things, some cash, the ugliest chair in creation of chairs, and a trip for two to Mexico City, for a week, with hotel and air accommodations. I loved the flight over and wished it would never end. I loved everything about the flights to and from Mexico City. Mexico City...Some of the touristy things were cool, the smog was horrible, the traffic and noise was unbearable and even on the thirteenth floor, we could hear it. It was dirty as well. I was not impressed by what I saw back then and have never been back. One thing that really sticks in my head, is that I have never seen so many VW's in my life. They were used as taxis and the front passenger seat removed.

I didn't fly again until after I got married, at 30. We were going to go to Paris before we got married and I broke my ankle. We drove to Vegas to get married on the day we were supposed to fly to Paris. I have still never been to Paris, and quite frankly, have no desire to got there. It was a romantic idea from a young woman who was asked to go where ever I wanted. And who loved to fly, but hadn't in several years. We flew to Honduras to a small island called Roatan. We stayed a week and then went to the mountains of Copan. I still loved flying. Even though our flight there, including layovers and plane changes took us nearly twenty-four hours. We were exhausted. But it was a great trip and Roatan and Copan were both beautiful places to visit. We flew into New Orleans and stayed a couple of days, before we headed home to California. I couldn't tolerate the heat and humidity. I don't know how some of you do it! It literally made me ill. I did like New Orleans though. We did some shopping and visited a couple of restaurants that my husband had been to. Yum.

After that, flying became pretty routine. We flew to NY and CT to see David's family. I even had to fly to CT to get some loser renters out of our house. Had to go to court! There is another post to tell that story. We flew up to Vancouver to get on a ship to Alaska. We even took a helicopter ride to the glaciers in Alaska. I do have to admit to a little fear there. We flew to Hawaii and Katharine and I got bumped to first class. That was awesome. It has only happened to me three times. We flew to Toronto when David had business and my good friend took the train up from MI to see me. She and I got to hang out a couple of extra days. It was great fun. I even flew to MI once to see my friend and hang with her and her kids for a week. When I got home, David had potty trained our youngest! Not only that, he got a taste of how much work goes into being a full time mom. So, that was a huge benefit. But, you get the gist. We flew and I was never nervous.

Then one summer my brother and I and our kids went to OK to see my dad's cousin. That in itself, is a whole different post. However, the flight was not a big deal to me or my kids who had flown plenty by that times. My brother was freaked out and holding on to the seat. All the while, I was laughing at him. All of a sudden our plane dropped from the sky and it felt like we had plummeted a couple thousand feet. We had gotten in wind sheer of another plane, according to the pilot. I was no longer laughing and had myself a stiff cocktail, and they were free for the whole plane. We finally landed but we had to get onto a puddle jumper to Oklahoma City. We were already on edge from the first leg of the flight and were trying to keep up appearances for the kids. We were in the air for about forty five minutes when we heard a loud BANG. My brother and I looked at each other with wide (red) eyes. WTF? The pilot comes on the speaker and tells us, "Hey folks, did y'all hear that bang? Well, we need to shut off the engine to fix the problem, but only for a few seconds." Why the fuck would he tell us that? He did as he said and we landed safely, but it marred our trip home, that is for sure! And all of my future flights as well.

We went to Italy and my husband was already there. I had to take the kids and change planes in NY. The girls and I went to stay at a hotel near LAX, so we wouldn't have to fight the morning traffic. I called my shrink about ten that night having a major panic attack. He told me to take a Klonipin and a Xanax and to let them work for an hour and if I was still nervous to take another half of Xanax. It worked. He also told me to take a Xanax when I left the hotel and to take another half at take off. I followed his instructions and repeated them on the second leg of the flight, headed to Venice. I did the same thing on the way home, but this time my husband was with us for the flight home.

I have not been to NY since 9/11. I don't think there is enough Xanax to get me there. Between plummeting flights and terrorism, flying is very scary to me now. I have been to Tahiti three or four times in the last few years and I take my Xanax and do pretty well on the very long flight. Then again on a little puddle jumper over to Huahine. I remember the first time and I was holding on to the arm rest and my friend told me we were just circling so we could land in beautiful little Huahine. Now my friend is afraid to fly too. After a bad flight she swore she would never go again...She just got back yesterday!

And, just for clarification...I do not take Xanax on a daily basis or even weekly. I use it only when necessary.