My imagination was on fire, as we say in Recovery. I fly
frequently, and I found myself wondering what it must have been like for those
tragic souls onboard that flight. I talked to several co-workers about my fear
of flying. I was working myself up into a frenzy.
I soon realized that in order to protect my mental health, I
would need to distance myself from the news coverage. Avoiding hearing more
about the tragedy will be difficult in the coming weeks, but I’ve decided to
not focus on or obsess over the situation. I acknowledged that talking about my
fear of flying with my co-workers did nothing but upset me—I got goose bumps,
my eyes became blurry, and my breathing became shallow.
These symptoms are average for me after an airline disaster
and, to put the situation in perspective, I don’t have them often, as such
tragedies are quite rare. I’m also providing myself with secure thoughts, acknowledging
how exponentially safer flying is than driving, for example. I can’t control my
feelings and sensations, but I certainly can control my thoughts and impulses.
Flying is part of my job—there’s no way to avoid it, and I
wouldn’t want to. I enjoy seeing new places and meeting new people. This rare
tragedy is causing me discomfort, but through my Recovery training I am able to put
such feelings into perspective. My heart goes out to the families of the
victims, but obsessing over the situation will certainly not help anyone.
