Isn’t It Ironic?

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
“Well isn’t this nice…”
I’m not sure when or why it started but lately the thought of getting on a plane means having my heart in my mouth, sweaty palms and a complete conviction that there is absolutely no chance I am going to get to my destination in one piece. Don’t worry, I’ve read up about it and I know I am more likely to die on the way to the airport than on the actual plane but that doesn’t change the fact that I absolutely hate being in the air. As it stands, this fear is not strong enough to stop me from boarding a plane just yet but what I am afraid of, even more than the engine exploding and the plane falling out of mid-air, is that one day I will be too scared to take my seat and make it through take-off.
I currently manage to get through a flight by swallowing Kalms tablets (a herbal anti-anxiety remedy), listening to chill-out music and breathing exercises. I am, however, starting to consider hypnotherapy. Ryanair is bad enough but what is going to happen when I travel next year and possibly have to catch a rickety little plane to get from A to B? The idea of turning down an opportunity because of an irrational (or is it?) fear upsets me so I don’t think it would ever go that far but I still wish I could be one of those people who immediately falls asleep once the plane is in the air.
For the time being I will keep counting my breaths and dreaming of all the valium in the world to get me through it.

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