Most people agree travelling is a good thing. People think it’s exciting, almost invigorating to travel. Travelling is the best way to learn new things, whether it be a new language or new culture because you’re experiencing it first hand instead of just reading or looking at pictures. It broadens your view of the world. For me travelling means stress and anxiety (both of which I try to block out). Travelling means being out of my comfort zone, especially when I’m with people I barely know; in this case, I was travelling with my aunt, uncle and cousin. Growing up I was a sheltered child so travelling meant leaving the familiarity of home and the people who kept me safe. I wasn’t one for travelling even the smallest of distances, but there I
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I stared straight at the top right corner of the screen in front of me. “Inhale for four counts, hold for seven, exhale for eight,” she would say over the phone whenever this happened. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” I exhaled. “The second step is to stop negative thoughts; focus on the positive and don’t forget to breathe.” I sat back in the stiff airplane seat. The roof of the plane was not going to fall on me. The exits are not going to fly open and suck everyone and everything out, effectively throwing us out into the ocean. The most positive thought I could come up with was the thought of my grandparents. The point of the trip was to see them. They were the ones who took care of me when my parents were busy working. They were getting older and I had been told my grandfather was losing his memory. My mom wanted me to see them before it was too late. I kept telling myself I had to be there for them for all the times they were there for me. Security check and waiting to board the plane was all a blur. Before I knew it, the plane had taken off and I felt as if I was trapped in a gigantic commercial sized metal bird for 13 …show more content…
The air felt too thin and smelled like stale air mixed with the scent of old people, the seats were bent forward just a little too much that it strained my neck and my legs were starting to go numb from sitting in one spot for so long. The atmosphere in the plane felt wrong. There was so many people filing into the plane. The luggage in the compartments above me were positioned as if they were just about ready to fall on me. I felt vulnerable and I didn’t know how to handle it. It made heart beat faster. I could feel myself losing control of my emotions, but I couldn’t let anyone know I was scared. I had to calm myself down. “The last step is to relax. Sleeping always works or maybe writing.” Sleep wasn’t an option and I had nothing to write with. I settled on people watching. The man across the aisle had large glasses but a short nose. They kept sliding off while he tried to read an article from the newspaper he was holding. The person in front of him had one of those travelling pillows that I thought resembled a toilet seat wrapped around his neck. From the angle I was sitting I could see that he was Asian and much younger than the man behind him. He was reading the korean skymall magazine. I studied more people to keep my mind off my previous episode. After staring at at least a dozen passengers and studying a frighteningly large the mole on a blonde flight attendant’s
I stared straight at the top right corner of the screen in front of me. “Inhale for four counts, hold for seven, exhale for eight,” she would say over the phone whenever this happened. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” I exhaled. “The second step is to stop negative thoughts; focus on the positive and don’t forget to breathe.” I sat back in the stiff airplane seat. The roof of the plane was not going to fall on me. The exits are not going to fly open and suck everyone and everything out, effectively throwing us out into the ocean. The most positive thought I could come up with was the thought of my grandparents. The point of the trip was to see them. They were the ones who took care of me when my parents were busy working. They were getting older and I had been told my grandfather was losing his memory. My mom wanted me to see them before it was too late. I kept telling myself I had to be there for them for all the times they were there for me. Security check and waiting to board the plane was all a blur. Before I knew it, the plane had taken off and I felt as if I was trapped in a gigantic commercial sized metal bird for 13 …show more content…
The air felt too thin and smelled like stale air mixed with the scent of old people, the seats were bent forward just a little too much that it strained my neck and my legs were starting to go numb from sitting in one spot for so long. The atmosphere in the plane felt wrong. There was so many people filing into the plane. The luggage in the compartments above me were positioned as if they were just about ready to fall on me. I felt vulnerable and I didn’t know how to handle it. It made heart beat faster. I could feel myself losing control of my emotions, but I couldn’t let anyone know I was scared. I had to calm myself down. “The last step is to relax. Sleeping always works or maybe writing.” Sleep wasn’t an option and I had nothing to write with. I settled on people watching. The man across the aisle had large glasses but a short nose. They kept sliding off while he tried to read an article from the newspaper he was holding. The person in front of him had one of those travelling pillows that I thought resembled a toilet seat wrapped around his neck. From the angle I was sitting I could see that he was Asian and much younger than the man behind him. He was reading the korean skymall magazine. I studied more people to keep my mind off my previous episode. After staring at at least a dozen passengers and studying a frighteningly large the mole on a blonde flight attendant’s