I flew home to Toronto this morning from Ottawa. I flew back to Ottawa tonight. I wanted to pay respects to my great aunt back home. I also wanted to continue my family vacation.
If you know me, you know that I hate flying. I hate it. I loathe it. I’m petrified of it. But this trip was non negotiable. I wanted to be there today.
While I was 28,000 feet in the air the plane went through some bad turbulence. I was scared, nauseous and as usual talked myself into being further paranoid of flying.
What am I afraid of?
I’m afraid that my plane will crash.
The turbulence surely must mean that something is wrong with the plane. It will crash.
Lisa. Honestly. Flying is the safest form of travel. They say you are more likely to get in a car accident driving to the airport (not that this makes me feel any better). But you have to look at the statistics.
So I’m afraid of crashing. I’m afraid of dying. I’m afraid of death. Ironic that I discuss this on a day where I’m saying goodbye to someone I loved so dearly.
Isn’t what I’ve been doing to myself basically turbulence. But the fear I’ve created is something I’ve put on to you. Those that read my blog. Those that love and support me. I’m creating the fear of my death in others. Because I certainly don’t see it, otherwise I wouldn’t continue this behaviour.
Turbulence creates anxiety that is uncomfortable and scary. And I am doing the same to you.
Imagine your husband telling you that he looks over to make sure you are breathing at night. Turbulence.
Imagine your parents being afraid that you will be driving your car and pass out on the highway. Turbulence.
I hate the feeling of turbulence. So why would I want to put that fear onto anyone else?
More importantly why would I want to play this ‘game’ with my life. Why take the chance? What makes it worth it? Turbulence is an awful feeling.
As I said goodbye to Auntie Sarah, I marvelled in her 101 years of life. I want to enjoy every day like she did. If I keep up an Eating Disorder I won’t be able to enjoy the next 58 years of my life.
And why shouldn’t I?
I deserve to be a great aunt one day too. Surely as not as great as Auntie Sarah (nobody could ever measure up to her greatness). But I certainly want to try. To make her proud of the legacy she left behind.
Goodbye Auntie Sarah. You were one of a kind and will forever be a part of my heart.
Say hi to Bubie and Zaidy.
I love you all so much.