I am a delicate creature in the body of an Amazon, at least when it comes to modern world. Road traffic worries me latent. Cell phones rob me of sleep. And last but not least, I suffer from a phenomenon that, as I now found out, affects almost a third of humanity: I am afraid of flying.
My life is my favorite life. My friend Ilona once said that it may be desirable to live a life to envy one. I don’t think that’s at all. Do not believe that a lot of people in particular envy me about “my life”. This is due to the exact fit with which my life fits me exactly. Man says (again a statistics) that around 40 for most people the highlight of the order situation has been reached, that on average it goes as well as before and after not. Can be. In any case, I (I will happen to be 40 in June) is currently working comparatively a lot and – I love it.
Theoretically ready for vacation
However, man is a strange being. Our mind constantly dashes somewhere (like to do something like “work”), and body and soul sometimes pant a little perplexed. In short: if I don’t go on vacation soon, I will probably fly around my ears myself. That’s why I booked accommodation in the Canary Islands on a pregnancy pregnant night, and now I have to go there too.
But I have this fear of flying.
So much that I woke up in my bed in Dortmund this morning – with fear of flying!
Disaster flight in the head
In the dim light of the souped Dortmund in the morning I imagined everything in concrete terms how I stand in line at the airport, as on the way to the scaffold and all hands full to regulate my nerve apparatus in public.
As I have to climb my place in this coach, after transit air and cheap perfume, and from that moment on, as I have to get my place in this coach -sized manner, and from that moment to the rapidly fast aircraft start, before which you (again (again statistical) Most of the fear.
How the rumbling aircraft reaches this outrageous speed on the runway and then comes the moment when the thing lifts off and, like a curious nose, drills through the German cloud cover.
And as I then look out of the window in a first wave of relief and think, och, wasn’t that bad, but then, after about an hour and a half flight, the turbulence start high, high above Spain and my body releases the thread of death that it is a bright joy.
The second fear
When writing this column, I affect, like many of my suffering: Inside, a second fear (notice: Fear always draws more fear!), Namely to get to the bottom of my fear of flying and to write down here, which I specifically fear have. If I now write down which stages of a flight are particularly bad, it feels as if I called the turbulence, the gray shouting of the other passengers, the mileage through an air hole or even the fatal crash due to a tumor made of birds that strangled into the turbine. But you want to have something to read, please, these pictures were my psychological last shirt for today.
And all of this completely among these foreign idiots, which I am remarkable by the way without ever seeing them.
Body vs. head
I only think of nobody because of the shortness of breath. Instead of a clever “how to flying fear”, only shreds come from some clever sayings from strangers or friend: inside.
For example, I read the following sentence somewhere on the Internet: Flying is uncomfortable, but not dangerous. I actually liked that because I always like it when the truth comes into play to free you: you don’t have to like it right away. But you don’t need to fear it either.
OK. So far so good.
But how do I teach my body? Despite the clever sayings, it sends his fear chemistry into my bloodstream and begins his fear chemistry in the relatively safe Westphalian bed with the trembling two weeks earlier. As long as my mind and my body are two different parties, I can’t relax. Of course, the next recommendation comes: take drugs. Let them prescribe to sedative when it is so bad.
My head, who also has to decide to do that, tells me all the time: A tablet does not keep an aircraft in the air either, I don’t need to buy the stuff.
Am I crazy? Does the shit have something to do with control? Or is it just a very natural, instinctive fear, because flying, sorry not sorry, really a wild thing and was originally only reserved for the airsaur?
The one million euro alternative
The following creepy news, which penetrated me when googling, is also not exactly helpful: the climate change is currently creating so -called “windscreens” above the Atlantic and also over the oceans, which are increasingly ensuring turbulence and sometimes prevents a plane or two from landing because they can then become too dangerous.
Great. Thanks for nothing. I am about to leave the thousand euros a thousand euros and stay at home. Have already explored travel routes on the Canary Islands without a plane. However, these islands are so far away that it would cost one million euros and three weeks, of which for a total of two whole days on the high seas, which will not be spared from these violent winds.
Flight help please
Dear Rolling Stone reader community.
The statistics say that you are thinking about two thirds, are not afraid of flying and lives out your freedom until the globe glows.
Hereby the question to you: How do you do that? How do you think about the armrest around the armrest on the seat next to you and a horror film with Dolby surround sound in my mind’s eye and in my mind’s eye?
Are you all physics students? Techniknerds? Do you love statistics at the end or are you simply believers?
How do you do that that you just get on a plane casually, then you sleep for four hours or hear a podcast and then get out casually again without letting a chemical experience flood through your body? Do you have afraid of flying and it is gone now? Didn’t you have any and now she’s there?
Please, I really need all the tips, all the stories that exist!
Because, it just can’t be that I don’t fly to the Canary Islands again out of pure fear.
Many thanks in advance
Brandi