Nothing can prepare you for your first anxiety attack. When my anxiety first took hold of me, I hadn’t understood it; I didn’t get why it happened. All I remember is blaming the incident and myself for having been there at that time. I learned my triggers and how to manage them, but why did I feel like my control would vanish once I was 16,000 feet up in the air?
I grew up traveling every summer to Honduras with my family, but once I got to high school, spending the summer with my friends was my new priority. Thankfully, my parents lost their desire for traveling for the summer. So, for almost six years, I had not gotten on an airplane. However, after being diagnosed last summer with an anxiety panic disorder, I felt like any situation out of the “norm” might become a new trigger. The worry of the trip already made me realize I might have a panic attack on the airplane.
I tried planning around my anxiety as much as I could, but also kept in the back of my mind that I, along with my boyfriend, would have to find ways to accommodate the occurrence of a panic attack. I made sure to bring my anxiety meds, Tylenol, and even my emergency anxiety pills; I've always feared a situation that would require them. Essentially, the emergency pills are to calm my anxiety/ panic attacks immediately, but with that comes a bunch of side effects I did not want to deal with ever again.
Leading up to the trip, I did my research on how to prepare myself for travel. I eventually found some helpful tips that focused primarily on breathing techniques and the usual advice my psychiatrist had given me. I mostly found that looking at a picture of the window from inside the airplane was the best way to set my mind into travel mode. I have always loved sitting next to the window, so I figured rekindling my love of flight would be most beneficial.
When the day arrived, I had felt my anxiety bubble up slowly. Almost like breathing became harder as we got closer to leaving. My boyfriend and I walked into the airport, our hands entwined, just trying to stay calm. He reassured me of my safety, but all I kept thinking was “I just want to get this over with.” Not the best thought when you're trying to experience an enjoyable event for you and your significant other. Time sped by, and once we walked into the airplane, I felt everything inside me change. Like a virus, my anxiety spread through my body. My hands felt as if they were set aflame and clammy; I could feel my legs getting weak, my pulse beating fast, and of course, the world enclosed around me at a rapid pace. I couldn’t breathe.
My boyfriend led us to our seats, and I was immediately regretting the entire thing. And then that was it, “Babe. I don’t think I can do this. I have to get off the airplane.” “It's okay. You're fine. Do you want water?” I could just not take it, but I did my breathing techniques to try to keep myself calm. There's something about anxiety and panic attacks that make you feel like everyone's staring at you, judging you with their stares. You become the center of attention. I took my Tylenol pill and tried keeping myself from pulling at my hair and yelling.
The airplane ride was an ordeal, but it was better than expected. I lived, and I hadn’t needed to take any of my anxiety pills. The hard part was going to be the return trip home. Let's just say this experience on a plane won't be my last, but I learned that my anxiety- panic disorder was not going to take over my life. I gained control over something that made me feel helpless, and it gave me more confidence in handling my anxiety. It’s what I told my psychiatrist at my last appointment with him, and that’s what I’ll keep reminding myself whenever I worry about my triggers.
