The Cut - Hypnotizing Myself to Fly

“Excuse me,” I said to the flight attendant greeting passengers and handing out packs of disinfectant wipes and headphones as she reached my aisle. My heart was pounding at the speed of hummingbird wings in midair, and I felt lightheaded. Taking full breaths felt like trying to lift cement with my lungs. I’d been in my seat for just five minutes as passengers were still filing in, cramming too-big carry-ons into too-small overhead bins; the jumbo Airbus felt like a tuna can. Despite my best efforts, I hadn’t been able to convince myself to sit down and buckle up. Every time my ass landed on the seat, I sprang back up as if it was covered in pushpins.

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