Navigating Aerophobia, OCD & Anxiety #WorldMentalHealthDay

Image Source

There’s something undeniably beautiful about the open skies; how they seem to stretch forever, inviting us to explore far-off lands. But for those of us living with aerophobia, that beauty comes wrapped in layers of fear. I love traveling, the idea of it, the thrill of new cultures, but the fear of flying can turn that excitement into dread. Every time I buckle into my seat, I feel a sense of vulnerability, a complete surrender of control. I’ve often wondered, how can something so exhilarating also feel so terrifying?

My fear of flying feels deeply intertwined with my need for control. I know it’s an irrational thought. After all, flying is one of the safest modes of travel. But anxiety doesn’t operate on logic. For someone like me, where anxiety is a near-constant companion, not being in the driver’s seat triggers a profound sense of unease. I try to find comfort in order: the plane’s schedule, the reassuring voice of the captain, the calm demeanor of my fellow passengers, the exact placement of my belongings in my carry-on. These rituals can only hold the anxiety at bay for so long. Even if I try to watch a movie or read, my mind is always on the plane. 

The take-off is the hardest. The sudden speed, the forward propelling and the feeling of the ground slipping under my feet. I feel a knot in my stomach until the aircraft reaches maximum altitude and stays stable. Post which, I'm fine. Not great, not good, just fine. A slight turbulence and I'm back at being not fine. Unless I'm drop dead exhausted, I can seldom sleep on flights. No matter how long the journey is. I watch movies and eat. I'm not the one to drink on flights and pass out, so yeah, there goes another victory for me. Funnily enough, even though it is considered the hardest for any pilot, landing is my favorite part. That feeling of being back on terra firma once again.

OCD is another part of the puzzle for me. It’s not the stereotypical tidying or hand-washing people often imagine. My OCD manifests in an overwhelming need for order, both in my surroundings and in my thoughts. A crooked picture frame, things not kept back in their place, messy drawers or a sudden change in plans can send my mind spiraling into overdrive. It's not that I love perfection, but rather that it offers a sense of control in a world that feels perpetually unpredictable. I don't impose this on others and this is rather personal for me. The order in which I arrange my clothes/shoes. The direction the hangers should point to. How the groceries should be arranged and how everything has it own place. I do it myself, so no trouble for anyone. If this is what is called control, so be it. In fact, it’s this control that both drives my organization and heightens my anxiety when things seemingly fall apart.

Anxiety, like aerophobia, thrives on the unknown. It’s the voice that whispers, "What if?" in moments when I should be enjoying life’s simplest pleasures. I’ve found that in the quiet moments before a flight or when I’m away from home, anxiety swoops in with endless scenarios of what could go wrong. Ironically, while I love traveling and discovering new places, it’s the anticipation of all the uncontrollable variables that can often paralyze me with worry. Don't give me the "Good vibes only" look here. Everyone who knows me, knows that I'm a positive person. I'm an eternal optimist and am open to small to medium change almost immediately. Things not in my control trouble me. It has a lot to do with the trauma of my childhood, but that's material for another post. It’s exhausting to constantly battle between my desire for adventure and my fear of uncertainty.

Despite all of this, I don’t let my fears define me. I’ve learned to manage them, not always perfectly, but enough to still do the things I love. The number of flights I have taken while living with aerophobia is a testament to this. Deep breathing exercises and grounding techniques only help to a certain extent. What actually helps is allowing myself to acknowledge that my fears are valid; this make a world of difference. It reminds me that even though I may not always have control over a situation, I do have control over how I respond to it. The airplane might be out of my hands, but my reaction to the turbulence is mine to manage. I have gotten a lot better with time. A long way to go, but I know I'm getting better.

There’s a quiet strength in living with these mental health challenges. It’s easy to assume that fear, anxiety, and OCD make us weaker, but I’ve found the opposite to be true. They have taught me resilience, patience, and most importantly, empathy. When someone shares their struggle with a phobia or anxiety disorder, I understand deeply. These shared experiences connect us, making the world feel a little less daunting.

On this World Mental Health Day, I remind myself, and others, that our mental health is a journey, not a destination. Yes, there will be turbulence, but there will also be clear skies. It’s okay to be afraid, to feel anxious, to crave order, and to struggle with control. What matters most is the fact that we accept this and how we care for ourselves, how we manage the journey, and how we support others along the way.