The Flight To Singapore and My Irrational Fear of Flying

I hate flying, especially in Asia. It seems like this is at odds with my wanderlust, but there’s just something about what would happen in the unlikely event of a plane crash.

I’ve googled it. Bad things would happen. None of these things are in my locus of control. I’ve briefly considered purchasing a parachute, as ridiculous as this sounds, but really, the odds of me jumping out of a falling plane successfully are definitely slim.

“Alycia, if you miss the flight to Singapore, then you miss Thailand, and then you miss Australia and New Zealand, and your carefully-crafted plans… well they go to shit, don’t they?” I continued to reason with myself, “You know, a plane crash is statistically less likely than a car crash, and you drive cars all the time without this irrational fear. Also, the pilot wants to get home to his family, what motive could he possibly have to not do a great job being a pilot?”

So, eventually, I got on the plane. I tried not to think about the recent ride from Perth, which was forced to turn around after dropping 20000 feet. Tried not to think about the plane that disappeared in the ocean. Belatedly googled scoot airlines. They are apparently a subsidiary of Singapore’s airline. Bad entertainment reviews. But, higher ratings than AirAsia. I had heard horror stories about AirAsia.

I have a flight with them coming up. I try not to think of it.

Singapore’s strict though. You get fined for chewing gum, littering and they have the death penalty for drugs . I figured it had to be one of the safer airlines in Asia.

Still, my heart skipped a beat as the plane took off. I start to pray under my breath. Recite Bible Verses.

“Fear is the opposite of faith.” I say to myself, trying not to think about the drop that would occur in the event of a sudden engine failure.

Man, I hate flying.

To make matters worse, the plane lurched while we were in the air.

The loudspeaker crackled on. I look at the flight attendants. They are unfazed. No fear in their faces. I check the overhead. No oxygen masks. A good sign, I presume.

“I’m sorry for the turbulence.” The pilot speaks some more, “A plane has flown over us, and I am checking in with air traffic control now.”

I really don’t understand why I can’t just sleepĀ  through these flights. I count the people. I estimate there are at least 130 people on this engine. And children. These children are less scared then I am. I take a look back at the kids behind me. They are smiling.

I just close my eyes and try to fall asleep.

Even so, I am beyond relieved when the plane touches the ground I quickly google ‘turbulence,’ on my phone. Apparently, this is a normal part of flying.

I am relieved to have my feet on the ground.


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