With my fear of flying this is, undoubtedly, the ultimate test for me. Actually, I don’t have a fear of flying. I have a fear of crashing! Why do people say that it is flying they fear? That’s the easy bit. I work myself into a complete state of anxiety; I feel physically sick. Mike and Becky try their best to reassure me. I hate feeling like this. It’s so unfair to the others, but completely out of my control. Armed with my panic attack brown paper, I’m sitting in the aisle seat. That way I am free to bolt to the loo to throw up if need be – and it also lessens the fear of claustrophobia. The only thing worse than having to take a flight, is being penned in at the window seat. Urgh! I attempt some deep breathing exercises, resisting the urge to hyperventilate. I’ve never flown on a Jumbo before. It looks clumsy and lumbering – and incapable of taking off. Mike assures me that the bigger the plane, the less turbulence – and lets me squeeze his hand on take off. He doesn’t complain once, even though I notice that his fingers have turned purple.
