Last July, I took a huge step: I got on an airplane for the first time in my life, overcoming my fear of flying long enough to head out for a wonderful child-free weekend in Las Vegas. It was our first vacation since our honeymoon 9 years before, partly because I have always been so afraid to fly. It was high time I took the plunge.
As we were planning that trip, I found that just the thought of getting onto the airplane was enough to make my heart race and my chest feel tight. This went beyond the mental, I realized; I was actually starting to have panic attacks at the prospect of flying. I knew I would pull a William Shatner "There's something on the wing of the plane!" meltdown if I didn't ask for some help. I talked to my doctor, and with the help of some Xanax, I got through the flights to Vegas and back home just fine. I was still worried as the plane took off on the first leg that we were going to crash, but the little pill kept that worry from manifesting as physical symptoms. It was...almost fun. I even looked forward to the flight home a little bit and had the courage to switch to a window seat.
But when the Comair crash happened in Lexington just weeks later, the anxiety came back. We had been planning to fly to Orlando this summer with Ainsley for a family vacation, and I couldn't stand the thought. We decided to drive.
And things were going great. We booked the vacation, made plans to buy an in-car DVD player to placate Ainsley on the ride down, started thinking about all the things we are going to do...but panic has struck me again.
Apparently, the attacks I was having before our Vegas trip were not just airplane-related (though, don't get me wrong, I'm still convinced that airplanes are death traps.) I am afraid of travelling.
Last night at our 3-hour-long parent teacher conferences (which, since I only have 10 students working for me as aides, is a slow night for me) I went into MapQuest and Google maps and started looking at driving routes and possible stopping points and areas of interest along the way when all of a sudden, I started feeling woozy. I got light-headed and broke out into a cold sweat.I started having a funny taste in my mouth and my stomach began doing flip-flops. My heart was beating so hard and fast I could see it pounding under my sweater. There were a few seconds where I thought I was going to black out. I was having a little panic attack.
After I closed out of the roadmap of Florida I was looking at at the time, I started to feel a little better. Yet any time the rest of the evening that I thought about the 13-hour drive, or about that long expanse of interstate 75, my hands started to quiver.
It didn't used to be this way. I used to love long road trips. What happened? I've had no road traumas, no major accidents. Have I become that much of a home-body? Am I getting so introverted and stuck in my ways that I get physically ill when I'm outside of my comfort zone?
After some contemplation during a rather lackluster American Idol last night, I think I know why I'm flipping: because I am an overprotective mom. I am really worried about all the bad things that can happen to my child. As I've heard a million times when discussing my fear of flying, you are much more likely to die in a car crash than on a plane. We are going to one of the busiest, most crowded attractions on earth. In my paranoid, anxious, pessimistic mind, I see a million things that could go wrong. A million ways for this vacation to turn into our worst nightmare. My airplane anxiety centers around my fear for myself; this newest fear goes deeper than that to the core of maternal instinct and protection. And it's absolutely ridiculous.
So I will spend the next 3 months telling myself to look forward to the fun in the sun and not obsess over the danger lurking in every rest stop, lane-changing tractor trailer, and crowded photo op. I will try not to lie in bed every night and worry about losing sight of Ainsley in a crowd. I will plan for fun, not death.
Though Jason will be in charge of looking at all maps from here on out.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
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1 comment:
My advice, stay away from "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride"! :-P Oh yeah, and refill your previous travel pills! hahahaha...
You will have a great time..and who knows, if the commercials are true, you might just find yourself 20 years younger running around that park!
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