Coping with my fear of flying

I have flown several times. I dont know why I am scared, I just am. I havent had a particularly bad experience. I just hate it and Im getting worse. I get nightmares from the moment I book a flight to the moment I have landed safely.

I will do everything I can to avoid it. I once spent four days travelling overland to Finland just so that I could avoid a two-hour flight.

I have tried hypnosis and I have even spent an afternoon at Heathrow watching the planes take off and land safely.

Like everyone, I know the facts. Flying is the safest form of transport. But whenever it is my turn to fly, that argument is drowned out by a big voice inside my head shouting What If.

What if the engines fail? What if there is a storm? What if we get stuck in heavy turbulence? What if Air Traffic Control fall asleep and put us on collision course with all the other planes? What if the people re-fuelling at the other end arent as good at it as we Brits?

I work myself into such a frenzy that it is easier to avoid flying altogether and by and large that is what I have done.

So when the Limited Edition editor, Debra, suggested that I go on a British Airways Fly With Confidence course run by Aviatours I thought I should give it a try.

I needed help and needed it quickly because in one of my bolder moments I had booked a return flight to Athens just two days after the course and I was dreading it.

But what had I done? By saying yes I had given myself three flights in a week and I didnt want to do any of them. Id been lucky on my 13 previous flights. But surely the law of averages meant I was due at least one bad flight in the next three.

As soon as they confirmed my place on the course my stomach started to loop the loop.

Colleagues tried to reassure me and said that God wouldnt be so cruel as to let an aeroplane on a fear of flying course crash. So I calmed down and started to read the course details. It didn't help when I read their suggestion that I take out insurance.

And so it was with considerable dread that I drove to Heathrow on that Saturday morning.

The morning was devoted to the technical aspects of flying with the pilots telling us how safe it is. The afternoon was about psychology and relaxation with the climax being a one-hour flight.

At registration, a woman in front of me burst into tears. For the first time I was with a group of people who knew how I felt, whose own lives had been turned upside down because they had to get on a plane.

Whats more, the instructors knew how we were feeling. They understood our fears and did their best to allay them in a sympathetic and understanding manner, spiced with humour to help keep us relaxed.

They reassured us that while turbulence is unpleasant it cannot harm the plane; that if both engines fail it can still glide for half an hour; that the engines have built-in fire protection systems; that lightning isn't a danger; that there are three independent computers on board; and that air traffic control and the on-board radar would keep us three miles away from any other planes.

I was beginning to feel more confident. But then came lunch. We broke off into groups and inevitably got chatting. Most people were like me or worse. Some had flown several times before but had suddenly decided they couldnt do it any more. I knew I had to get away from these people exchanging horror stories. They were feeding the fear.

The first period after lunch was awful because of the realisation that the flight was getting closer. There were moments when I thought I might not get on.

But clinical psychologist Dr Keith Stoll was brilliant. He knew exactly what we were all thinking and was spot on when he accused us of catastrophising of picturing all the worst scenes and images from newspapers and films and rolling them into one big disaster.

He was right. I see fireballs and people being sucked out of planes every time Im about to fly.

He got us all doing deep breathing routines and exercises and soon I was striding onto the plane feeling more confident than ever before.

The take-off was fine. The two captains and the stewards explained every noise and knowing what was going on and why the wing flaps were moving was a great help.

When the engine noise changed shortly after take-off, for once I didnt panic and think the plane had stalled because I had been told that the engines have to reduce power 1,000 feet above the airport in accordance with noise abatement rules.

Everything was explained and before long I was confidently unclipping my seatbelt for the first time ever in the air. I even accepted the offer to view the flightdeck.

I was feeling triumphant.

But unfortunately my flight was tarnished by the landing. I began to panic when I saw other planes out of the window as we circled Heathrow. We then incurred a little bit of turbulence and had a bit of a bumpy landing in the crosswind.

It was a disappointing end to a positive day.

The instructors told us to go home and write down everything we had felt and experienced. It was good advice. I had far more positives than negatives.

I had been the calmest I had ever been taking off and in flight. I had felt confident, walked about the plane, enjoyed the views and understood all the noises which previously had alarmed me. And although I hadnt enjoyed the landing we had landed safely.

Only seven people of the 160 course members had not managed to get on the flight and I knew how annoyed they would be feeling with themselves.

The first part of the day is useful, but you need to do the flight to make progress. When you are up there you are never more than a couple of seats away from an expert who can explain everything to you.

I felt better, but it had not been the magic wand I wanted. I was still not looking forward to flying to Greece, but I was certainly a lot less worried than I was before.

For more information or to book a place on a Fly with Confidence course call 01252 793250.

Article taken from the August edition of Limited Edition