I make no qualms about my dislike of flying however I have learned a valuable lesson about how to deal with this common fear. NEVER, and I seriously mean never (that is why the capital letters) tell the people you are travelling with that you hate flying. On a recent family trip to California I made mention that I was going to be using all my resources to get through all the flights that were coming up (Ativan it is baby!) but did not anticipate that I was going to be the source of entertainment for the other six members I was with. The entire time they kept looking at me (well the three youngsters anyway) waiting with bated breath for me to lose my mind and start screaming bloody murder OR to start puking (both of which are extremely probable). Well, what I did not anticipate was the early holiday celebration at the first airport! So one Ativan and two beer later, all is well in the world of aviation! After a short 45 minute flight to the next airport, subsequent celebration needed to occur so one more beer later (at this point I am starting to understand that perhaps prescription drugs and alcohol do not mix. Just a hint of understanding however. No earth shattering revelations at this point!) I am gettin on that plane without a hesitation. I get seated and promptly fall asleep. Nice. This is the bomb...... until I wake up, what feels like three hours later, but is only maybe ten minutes only to find we have not even left the freaking airport yet! Shitttttt. It was all I could do not to barf the entire flight. Of course the adult type people I am with are trying their best to be super helpful by talking to me and trying to distract me (all of which provides me with a difficult situation because if I open my mouth to answer, chances are really high I am going to barf up beer!). We land, go to the baggage claim area and this is when it hits me - it is way better to pick just one - beer OR Ativan - not both! Oh dear. I am, at this point, barely able to function and barely hanging on to the control that is needed to get ones luggage, get in a cab, check into a hotel and all that other crap. I must have maintained my dignity well enough because the holiday crowd seemed to think I was just tired. Ha ha jokes on you people. I was wasted! (or maybe jokes on me because it was NOT good wasted, it was yucky, not riding this buzz, wasted!)
The flight home I skipped the Ativan AND the beer, still felt like puking the whole time, but made it through. From now on I will just take my little pill and not tell a soul that I am secretly freaking out. It has however, since occurred to me that I really am not afraid of flying. I am afraid of DYING. So there`s that!
