Stacy's Place on Earth
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Sunday, January 08, 2006:
Flying - a phobia
I don't know why the more I fly, the more freaked out I get. I would think I would be used to it by now, but no. Instead, especially since I've managed to get the windowseat every single time, I am a nervous wreck. It's not the whole trip, just the take-offs, and during bad turbulence. The minute the plane leaves the ground, that's when my brain is convinced something bad is going to happen. How can something so heavy remain airborne for so long? I know, it's science, technology, blah, blah, blah. Does nothing for me to know this.

Once the plane is level, and all you hear is the hum of the engines and the clearing of throats from fellow passengers, I manage to return back to some type of normalcy. Unless there the disruptive shaking of turbulence to knock the book out of my hands if I'm not holding tight enough. Then I am (quietly) engaged in panic mode all over again. I don't think I even remember what I read during those tense moments.

Having once worked for an airline, even in jobs that weren't really related to an airline, I had dreams about crashes. Almost since day one. I would say 95% of the dreams were not tragic, but rather ended up with everyone surviving. They were strange dreams, involving planes doing things I didn't think it was possible to do.

I've talked to other people about this, and about 1/2 of them feel the same way I do, which I guess is somewhat reassuring. Misery loves company and all that. And maybe talking about it will help me work through it, or at least come to accept it. Because my flying days are not over. It feels good to get it out and admit my fear. So whether it's crazy or healthy, it's real, and I have to deal with it. Time to move on....

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