When I was little, I was so scared of flying that the second I got on the plane, I would curl myself up into a ball in my seat and force myself to fall asleep.
My rationalization? It would be better to die sleeping during takeoff than awake. Because, like, if the plane were to crash during takeoff, I’d totally sleep during it.
Now when I’m really stressed out, I force myself to take a nap. BECAUSE SLEEP IS AN EFFECTIVE MEANS OF STRESS CONTROL, and also, it’s amazing and wonderful and I love it more than I love boobs. And we all know how much I love boobs.
Last week I went back to New York for a writer’s conference. My flight there was delayed four (FOUR!) hours because, like, stupid airplane stuff. Mechanical issues. You know, like, something would’ve exploded if we were to fly. And I’m sitting in the terminal, stewing, because I hate delays and I’m mad at the airline for not fixing the plane fast enough when–
You do realize, Whitney, that if they bring the plane out and you fly in it now, you’re totally going to crash? You should be thankful for this delay. It’s what’s keeping you alive right now.
Then I have to tell my anxiety to stop being an asshole, though, in this case, it was perfectly right. Why the fuck do I get so mad when there’s a mechanical delay? If they’re trying to fix it, they’re trying to keep me from that fiery death that I fear every takeoff. I should be giving them awards and stuff. Maybe a slow clap? Maybe that scoop of Hagen Daaz I was so intent on eating?
On the way back, I was afraid of more plane delays. And that’s when I start making deals with The Devil, or like, anyone who’s listening.
See, there’s a moment when the plane takes off and it’s gaining altitude, when it has that first little dip. You all know the dip I’m talking about, right? Well, the second that happens, my Anxiety Voice kicks into full gear.
I bet this plane is about to crash. I wonder what that will feel like. Does it hurt to burn alive, or will I die instantly? HOLY FUCK WE DIPPED, WE AREN’T GOING TO MAKE IT. HOW DO THESE THINGS STAY IN THE AIR IT’S LIKE SO HEAVY AND I ATE THAT GELATO AND JESUS WE ARE PROBABLY OVER THE WEIGHT CAPACITY AND I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO TELL MY MOM I LOVE HER AGAIN I’M A TERRIBLE DAUGHTER ALSO IF I SURVIVE THIS I NEED TO BUY GROCERIES
So, how do I calm myself down at that moment of panic, you ask? Well, I justify my survival. And usually I do it in the dumbest way possible.
No, I don’t use platypussoi to justify my survival. That would be awesome, though. Note to self: Do that in the future.
I realized while I was heading to the airport that I lost my eagle necklace in New York. It’s this cool little eagle head that’s hollow, and I would occasionally stick my pinky in it and pretend I had an eagle for a finger because fuck you, that’s why, and it was amazing and I loved it and now it’s gone.
So when the plane did that first dip and my Anxiety Voice went, YOU’LL NEVER GET LAID OR EAT CHOCOLATE AGAAAAINNNNNNN, I fought back with: No, I’m going to live because I lost my eagle necklace. A trade for a trade. Right, Universe? I think that’s fair.
And my breathing returned to normal.
I justify my survival like that a lot. Or good news. I’ll be like, Oh, wow, this person really likes me. It must be because last week I pooped my pants after that really sad movie. Or, The reason why Emma Stone is totally hitting on me right now is because I lost my credit card.
They’re dumb trades, is what I’m saying. But somehow The Universe is totally cool with them.
It’s probably because it wanted to have a tiny eagle finger. The fucker.
*PS! I hope you like the new layout. I’m trying to evolve into a platypus. If you want to leave a comment, scroll down to where the tags are. To the right of the tags, you’ll see a little plus sign. Click on that plus sign, and the comment box will appear!
Highest Form of Whit 
You’re the best Whitney. And the layout is nice. And yes, that dip is scary shit every time!
You flatterer! You’re the best!
I do a sort of Shadenfreude thing where I’ll find somebody, say a child, and be all “well, if I die on this plane, then that kid will too and that’s more unfair to him than to me because I’ve lived longer and blah blah blah.” Hey, whatever it takes, right? I hope you get laid and have some chocolate and find your eagle thing. Maybe on the same day! What a day that would be, probably.
Oh my god, that would be a brilliant day.
And that is a brilliant comment.
Hurrah for boobs, anyway.
FM
Tit tit tooray!
That woke situation there is me to a T! In a horrendous flier and have an wildly vivid imagination. Though unlike you, I can’t sleep. I have this irrational idea that I am WILLING the plane to function correctly, and if my concentration is broken were all going to die. I know, I sound pretty full of myself. But this means I can’t relax and read, nap, write, watch movies, eat – and the majority of my flying is going to and from the UK from the west coast. That’s 9 hours of frantic willing.
Flying is intense!
Girl, I feel you. I used to sit in the fetal position and pray if there was turbulence, and I would do that the entire time! Yeesh!
Kudos to you for keeping strong and not letting it hold you back! Mind over matter – or in this case, I suppose it’s Matter over Mind 🙂
I must disagree regarding sleep; it’s a ridiculously annoying requirement. It forces me to stop enjoying things, and then seduces me to avoid other things. It is an interruption to life.
Given your misgivings, are you among those who think it’s not Wright for people to fly, and machines for that purpose are just plane evil?
Sorry.
Those puns… Are amazing.
Reblogged this on theowlladyblog.
Too funny! I only wish I could sleep on a plane, however, I promise NOT to sleep through your posts! Love your sarcasm. 🙂 ~Karen~
That’s so sweet! Thanks! 🙂
Love the way your brain works 🙂
Hey, thanks! I’m a fan of it, most of the time.
How could you possibly aspire to maintain the “HIGHEST FORM OF WHIT” if your goal is to stay grounded? Having the control tower monitor your anxious takeoffs and landings locks you into the void of the ordinary, whereas the turbulent flights of terror push you to greater heights of stellar creativity. Buckle up and embrace the uniqueness of your flightpath as you will soar above the eagles. Air Whitney you are now clear for takeoff on runway….
Well said! But I like not being terrified all the time!
Hi, I think your blog posts are HILARIOUS. I really look forward to reading more of your work… Fantastic. Don’t stop.
Also, if you have the time, could you please return the favor by liking/commenting my blog posts and maybe I might be lucky and get a follow from you? Would be great 🙂 have an awesome day – and I used to be scared of flying at one stage too – maybe it was the 2 planes disappearing in thin air within a year, or the movie ‘Snakes on a Plane’ being shown WHILST ON THE PLANE, I don’t know… lol
Snakes On a Plane made me so sad because I thought it was going to be funny but it took itself too seriously, and I was all, PYTHONS AREN’T VENOMOUS YOU CRAZY PEOPLE.