So it was lunchtime and I happily made my food while thinking good thoughts and being generally excited about my trip in one week. Being generally excitied about the fact that finally it seemed that my irrational fear of flying had ended and I would be okay, and everything would be fine. And then a phone conversation ...
Him: So I guess you already heard about the crash.
Me: The ... what?
Him: The crash. There was a --
Me: What? Where? What happened??
Him: A plane crashed in New York, I thought you would have known.
And frantically I turn on the television, wondering how I managed to miss this today, tears already spilling down my face. I'm feeling silly to be so emotional, silly to feel so affected.
But there we have it. Panic filters in and fear returns in less than 10 seconds. I find it bitterly ironic that just this morning I was planning to post about how I finally felt safe about flying. I was okay with the trip. Looking forward to it.
This morning I felt confident. Overly so, it seems. There can be no confidence where there is no control.
Irrational fear of flying? I think not.
I also think I'll just sit here and cry for a bit, thank you very much.