There’s also the method that @Asimovian and I used to get over our fear of flying… but it’s not for everyone. Flight lessons can be expensive.
(Thank you, @Broomstick, for the tag.)
I definitely hear you on that, @teelabrown. As mentioned, I did conquer my fear for a time via flying lessons, which was great because it was both a relief and a lot of fun. If you can swing it, I’d highly recommend it. But, again, it’s also very expensive. And I eventually ended up regressing back to being in exactly the state you described—whimpering and white-knuckling the entire flight, so it wasn’t a permanent fix for me.
Ultimately, I talked to my doctor about prescription medication for flying. It took a number of failed experiments and research to finally discover the right timing and amount (not much) of medication, but since about 2018, I’ve gotten it down to a science. I even took my first international flight two years ago (eight hours to Ireland) with success. The medication doesn’t knock me out, but it allows me to relax and not be concerned with turbulence, which is all I really need it to do.
Not to make light of anyone’s phobia or anxiety about flying, but that is not what I have.
What I have is the dread of exhaustion. It is not a phobia because it is not irrational at all. My daughter and I were just talking about this, how people who do not, in the normal or even abnormal course of events, ever experience the kind of exhaustion wherein you become so tired and overwhelmed that the tiniest challenge or setback – a safety pin that won’t open, or not having the right change – will cause you to curl up sobbing uncontrollably like a toddler, cannot grasp how frightening it is to face a situation which you know will take every ounce of coping energy you have, and if that if it takes more than that, you are going to create a public scene that you have no way of stopping.
Therapy does not give you more energy. It may give you more coping strategies, but essentially there is only one sure one: don’t put yourself in situations that are certain to be exhausting, that you can’t escape from. A trip across a continent is exactly that kind of situation.
I did reach the end of my energy but I had someone to help me through it – another coping strategy. And we did get through it.
After the day of recovery, we went on a nine mile hike – it was a pure pleasure – met one of my friends for lunch, walked some more with her, and then did some grocery shopping.
Then today we attended the memorial for my mother at the house she and my father lived in for forty years. One of my catty sisters did manage to scratch and hiss (“I hope you realize what an incredibly privileged life you lead” – well if I don’t it sure isn’t for a lack of you reminding me, I did not say).
My father and my mother were like halves of a whole, and he misses her all the time. I’m glad I showed up for him. I know it meant a great deal to him.
Overall my emotion was sadness. But it was a sadness that was all about me, so I didn’t share it out loud. Many people spoke about my mother’s enigmatic personality, her reserve – but also how much she indicated through her actions how much she cared about them. From teaching children to cook to teaching apprentices to garden, people were grateful to her and mourned her. But I am not grateful to her, and I don’t mourn her. I was silent.
When we happened to be alone afterward, a lifelong friend of the family confided, “I always felt so terrible for you when I was a kid and I watched how mistreated you were. You were so miserable and no one ever comforted you.” This is true. When I cried I was locked in my room – something that happened extremely often. My earliest understanding of my mother is that something about me frightened her, even could destroy her, and she wanted as little to do with me as possible. I had no idea what it could be, of course, just that when she looked at me she saw something monstrous.
I know, as an adult, what it was that was so terrifying for her – I could not stop feeling things. She had learned (brutally, from her own mother) how to never feel much of anything, and I was just like her except for that: I couldn’t learn how, no matter how much I was punished. I would lie in my locked room and cry until I vomited.
Being there brought up these memories again, but they don’t have quite the power they used to have. My sister’s evergreen resentment towards me doesn’t either. But I am still grateful I live so far away now.
Tomorrow I will see my church friends at Mass, and there will be more visiting with people I miss the next day as well. And then, we fly home to the people who love us best.
PS: I took some great photos of our hike but I have no way of getting those off my phone, since my apple and google passwords no longer work. I laboriously reset both of them once but after a few weeks they both stopped being accepted. I will have to wait until I find someone to rescue me because I would rather have a root canal than go through that again. So, no photos.
Thinks for keeping in touch. Been thinking about you.
I which I could reach back in time to little girl you and comfort and reassure her. I can see how sad it must have made you to hear what she did for others. How tragic that she’d been so emotionally crippled, and that it left her unable to give you the love and acceptance you deserved.
I’m glad you had a wonderful hike. (I hope you’re able to access the photos, too.) I’m glad you get to see people you miss tomorrow. And I’m happy you have loving people to go home to.
Honestly, I get anxious flying commercial as well - there’s so much about the situation that is stressful. I’ve been saying for years that fear of flying is NOT entirely irrational.
Whether it’s fear/phobia, anxiety, debilitating exhaustion, or motion sickness that leaves you vomiting for the entire flight, as I already said, there’s so much about flying that can be real problem. Whether it’s turbulence, physical distress, being locked in a tube with over a hundred other people while you’re jammed together and far too close to each other, a feeling of lack of control, not understanding what’s going and what’s safe or not… it’s stress, stress, stress. Which is exhausting for anyone, but in your case carries an additional problem.
I’m glad you found a way to get through it all, and the rest of this journey.
That’s so very kind of you to say.