Aeroplanes falling from the sky and exploding on the ground. Terrifying. This didn't happen just once or in one time or one place but over and over in scenes that were always different. Always terrifying. I was never on any of the aircraft, always on the ground. On every occasion life was normal and then something would alert my attention to the heavens above and there I would see the bird falling- sometimes far away and sometimes right near me. It would always change. Sometimes there was just the one, sometimes multiple planes falling. Sometime small planes, sometimes a colossus.
When I was about 23-26 years old I was plagued with these nightmares continually. I would say they happened about 2-3 times a week over the course of about 3 years. At the time I was staying with my gran for company after my uncle died leaving his mother living alone. They ended shortly after I left to get my own place.
But I can see why they were happening. Most nights I would sit in the living room watching TV with my gran or reading. I always sat directly opposite the main big window which looked out beyond the garden towards the capital. And it was situated on a flight path about 8 miles from the airport so I'd constantly see aeroplanes approaching gaining height or descending on the approach to land. Not that I took any notice but somewhere in my subconscious night worlds were being constructed to be later played out.
At that time I had only travelled by air 4 times, since I have travelled 6 times. I loved to fly. The take off was the best bit for me but coming into land was just as exhilarating. Even turbulance was not a problem, I enjoyed it. The cramp sardine tin you are wedged into never bothered me either. Nothing mattered except the thrill of excitement at the begining and the end. Then one day in my mind I say a metal container being catapulted from one end of the earth to another. That was the main thread of all those other thoughts- the ones about planes falling from the sky.
My enjoyment of flight only lasted those 4 times previously. Afterwards I hated it. It scared me to death. I felt claustrophobic and at the mercy of fate with no way to save myself should anything go wrong- like I believed I could in an emergency involving any other form of travel. Those nightmares I believe led to a fear of flying. Incidentally I believe the first panic attack I ever had was on an aeroplane.
