The day involved lots of talking, discussion, laughter, twanging of elastic bands and a flight.
We spent about 2 hours with an experienced pilot who explained every aspect of flight and of how a plane works and stays in the air. Though I found I had a basic understanding of this notion of 'lift' and how a jet stays in the air, this part of the day did so much to dispel those irrational fears, feelings and thoughts that try to convince you that the plane is going to 'fall out the sky'. Pilots think of everything that the most paranoid passenger fears. Plus every other conceivable possibility. Nothing is left to chance, they prepare for everything (absolutely everything) and are trained regularly for anything. We also heard from a member of the cabin crew - useful to hear what they are trained in and what they can do.
The second part of the day (or early evening by this point) was a psycho-educational session with a trained psychologist. We learned about fear, what it is, where it comes from and why we have it. We were taught about 'Old Thought Patterns' which have led to the fear of flying becoming entrenched in our minds and 'the way we think', and about how to challenge and tackle these with 'New Patterns' of thought, usually on the lines of flying being safe and natural etc. And we learned a number of techniques to break the Old Patterns and to remain calm in the face of anxiety. The techniques were varied - from twanging elastic bands on your wrist (to wake yourself from automatic thought processes) to karate chopping your hands together; and from deep breathing (my personal favourite) to visualizing 'spinning' thoughts and controlling them. These were and are designed to help fearful flyers to remain calm when approaching a flight and also to break these negative thought processes.
By mid-afternoon, (between the two sessions) I was slightly unnerved to find my anxiety levels rising. I had entered the day full of excitement and anticipation; not scared in the slightest. But as the clock ticked ever closer to take-off, nerves crept in. I was reassured, however - of course the nerves would increase - I was getting ever closer to thing I feared most - the flight itself.
As we got the bus to and walked through Gatwick's South Terminal the first signs of progress became obvious. In the past, arriving at the airport, going through the check-in process, and getting to the gate have usually been accompanied by a growing sense of panic, fear, and a longing to return to the car park. This time, I was joking, laughing and talking lots about work - often to the extent that I forgot where I was. That's not to say I wasn't completely unnerved. I was a bit anxious, yes; but so much less than before.
Historically, for me, boarding the plane is the worst part. And yes, the anxiety levels rose quite a bit here; but again, never to the levels I had experienced before. Though promising myself I would attempt the window seat, I happily plonked myself down on the aisle, just in front of the wings. The 30 minute time between boarding and take off were nerve-racking. Knees trembling, hand shaking (and dripping) the nerves were at their height. I reached into my pocket and swallowed a Valium and used the deep-breathing techniques to keep myself relatively calm. As in May, I found take-off to be a 'non-event'. Engines roar, nose goes up, clouds get closer and sheep get smaller. As is life. I stayed relatively calm, if a little cautious.
For the first 20 minutes of the flight, the fear came in waves. Relatively calm one minute, tackling brimming anxiety the next (especially when the two souls between me and the window embarked on a joint adventure to the toilet). The worst moments were when I managed to pluck up the courage to look out the window, only for the plane to bank and the ground suddenly to shoot downwards, out of sight.
But as the flight went on (and probably, as the Valium kicked in), I got used to my surroundings and managed to keep myself (with much greater ease) calm. It got easier. The plane did its thing, I admired Brighton from 15,000 ft and took the time to point out both the sunset and the London skyline to my fellow passengers. And then we landed. Job done.
The experience, then? Well, Rome wasn't built in a day. I went into the course half thinking that I would be 'magically cured' and get on the flight without a care in the world. This was unrealistic. I've spent the last 13 years of my life (probably more) thinking in the way that a nervous flyer thinks and responding to flights in the way that petrified air-travellers do. It's about learning what causes the fear and applying the techniques to change the way of thinking; that will take time. But I managed to show myself, towards the end of the flight, that I CAN get used to the environment that I am in; and knowing about what the plane does and is supposed to do, that environment becomes much easier to justify and rationalize. Once I am used to that environment, relaxation comes much, much more easily. And with relaxation, anxiety seeps away.
So it's about applying the knowledge and understanding, using the techniques to dispel the negative thoughts and to keep the anxiety at bay; and once used to the environment to relax and enjoy it.
Many who know me know that the little boy inside me still sucks his fingers - ONLY ever at times when he is tired and completely relaxed. As Monarch flight 9008, Gatwick - Gatwick glided over the M23 and towards runway 26L, the two fingers went in. Who cares what the dentist says, I'm taking that as a good sign. Let's go 'round again, I can tackle this fear.
Thanks Virgin Atlantic, for giving me the tools to tackle the fear of flying.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment