So I don't like flying.
I *extremely* dislike flying. Period. I especially don't like flying alone. I've had to do that a lot lately, what with DreamSchool being almost 2,000 miles away from my home in good ol' Texas. But the plane crash today? DOES NOT HELP WITH THE FLIGHT ANXIETY ESPECIALLY SINCE I WILL BE FLYING UP NORTH AGAIN VERY VERY SOON.
As I watched footage of the plane in the water, all the people being rescued, I first thanked god that everyone survived. That, in itself, was truly miraculous.
I also spent quite a bit of time fighting off an anxiety attack as I obsessively replayed, in my mind, exactly what those people on board must have been thinking. What they must have been going through. How scared they must have been, not knowing that if in five minutes or ten minutes they would be dead. Gone. No longer here. Then where would they be?
That thought has always haunted me--just how fleeting life is. We can be here, fully aware, one second, and literally gone (poof) the next. A plane crash. A heart attack. Anything.
A student who goes to DreamSchool died last week in a car accident. Here one minute, gone the next. I didn't know him, and neither did any of my friends at school, but still we were all simultaneously reminded of the reality that we are not transcendent. We are not immortal. It could be any of us.
My mom is flying for business tomorrow, and I don't think I'll breathe until I know she's landed safely. I'm flying a couple of days after that. I don't think I'll breathe until I've landed safely.
Perhaps I need to look into getting some Valium for the ride.