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Scared to Fly

Filed Under: Courtney First | Friday, 16 November 2007

I wasn’t going to blog about this, but I’ve decided that I’m going to.

When I got on the airplane to go from Albuquerque to Phoenix, I was scared. I put my suitcase in the overhead bin, my backpack under the seat in front of me, buckled my seatbelt, and panicked. I was sitting on a plane, buckled in, grasping the armrests to the point where my knuckles were white, sweat beading on my forehead, freaking out.

The last 5 times I had been on a plane, it had been a little Cessna, packed to the brim with skydivers. With the exception of my first skydiving trip, I’ve had a parachute strapped to my own back. The last 4 times I had flown, I had a parachute, that plane could be going down and I’d have been able to make my escape, pull my parachute, and land safely on the ground.

This time, not so much, if this plane went down, I was most likely going to die, and what made me think of that then, I don’t know, because I had never been scared to fly, even when I had packed my own parachute and was wearing it, I wasn’t afraid to fly. But I was afraid, very afraid this time. It was an uncomfortable feeling and I was stuck on the plane for something like 3 hours. I was scared.

It took about an hour for me to calm myself down enough that I was able to let go of the armrest. I still felt as though I needed a parachute strapped to me, that would’ve given me the security I thought I needed, but I was going to be ok. By the time I got to Vegas, I was excited to be off the plane.

When I was leaving Vegas, I was so exhausted, I don’t think I had it in me to freak out…

We’ll see what my trip in December to Cali does for me, will I freak, will I become one of those people that has to be drugged in order to fly? Only time will tell.

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