Traveling via airplane is pretty much the absolute worst. I’ve flown quite a few times over the past two years and I can honestly say I've disliked every experience. Not to be a total downer, but I have a feeling that most people would agree. And it honestly becomes unpleasant before you even get to the airport. For some God-awful reason, it seems like every time I decide to travel, everyone else in the entire city has also decided to catch a flight. Then you have to wait in line, and then wait in another line, just so you can have some random person grope you because you accidentally left a dime in your pocket.
The fun continues when your flight begins boarding. I have just come to the decision that everyone else around me must feel just as much anxiety about traveling that I do because there is no other way to explain why people choose to hear “now boarding premium cabin passengers” as “anyone can board right now.” Everyone has an assigned seat number. Getting to your seat three minutes earlier is not going to change anything. And even though everyone has an assigned seat number, some people also decide to ignore that fact and sit in any seat they feel like. No. That is not how it works. That is what makes the “me with flying anxiety” even more uneasy.
To be honest, I don’t think flying would be as big of a deal for me if I wasn’t severely claustrophobic, but, fun fact, I am. And it’s not like I can escape the small space any time soon. I’m basically stuck there for anywhere from one to four hours depending on where I’m going and of course, just because I’m so lucky, I always end up either sitting in front of a screaming kid kicking the back of my seat or I sit behind someone who obviously doesn’t understand that you’re not actually supposed to recline your seat, out of courtesy of those sitting behind you.
There’s already not enough room. Then, to top it off, there is almost never a direct flight between my point A and point B so, of course, I must take a connecting flight. That basically just means I have to repeat everything I just did for another one to four hours; surprise surprise, that doesn’t really go over well with me. It just seems quite strange that when traveling from Detroit, Michigan to Boston, Massachusetts, I have to first fly to Atlanta, Georgia and then to Boston. Seems a little out of the way, if you ask me.
However, despite my uncontrollable flying anxiety, I do know that things are the way they are for a reason and most of the process of flying is ultimately for our safety. In the big picture, flying is really not that bad and, on the bright side, the window seat is always paired with a breathtaking view that you can’t get anywhere else. And it is very possible that everything I feel about flying is just what’s going on in my head and everyone else is just bursting with happiness when they walk into an airport. I don’t quite understand those people, but hey, to each his or her own, right?
