is dying a fiery hideous death on a piece of flying metal. Um, so I'm a tiny, itty bitty, little bit afraid of airplanes. Well, not the actual machine, just my being in one while it's in the air. And my brother's getting married in the fall. In the Caribbean. It would take a very long time to get there by boat. If I thought I could it, I would. I stay awake at nights worrying about the flight already. What's it going to be like when it's closer? I keep saying I'm going to go to my doctor and ask if she can prescribe me a little something to reduce my anxiety, but I don't know if I ever will. I'm not really a doctor-goer. I wouldn't be going for damned gallbladder if it were paining me a whole lot and often.
The depth of my fear of flying is profound. Profound. And yes, I know my odds are worse in my car, which I get into every day. But let me tell you something about me. I don't even get into my car with ease. Every car that comes at me, I'm watching it in case they decide to cross the center line. Every time I drive I'm all too aware that I'm driving a large, heavy machine around other people doing the same thing. And it only takes seconds to have an accident. I'm always aware and thinking about it. I was in a minor accident when my son was about a year old. No one was hurt except my poor old car, which was totaled only because it was worth so little, the cost of repairs far outweighed its value.
I have a lot of fears - heights, flying...well those are the ones that are easy to put into words. The others are all a little more obscure and complicated. And most of them are not really rational. The fact that I know this reassures me, but it does not make me any more rational.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment