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How hypnotherapy helped me get over my chronic fear of flying

WORDS BY CAT FORSYTH

“I’d spent countless hours sitting in that chair, envisioning myself getting on this very plane.”

My earliest memory of my plane travel phobia was when my parents announced a trip to Singapore when I was seven years old. While my sister jumped up and down in excitement, thrilled at the idea of an overseas adventure, I declared I would not be coming. A seven-hour flight was far from my idea of a good time, and it seemed perfectly reasonable to decline this trip due to my anxiety.

Yes, I see how ignorant and entitled this seems now – and my parents thought the same thing. They told me that, whether I was scared of flying or not, I was lucky to have this opportunity. I would be coming on this holiday. Reluctantly, I embarked on my first international flight.


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I can still remember it clearly… seven hours spent in a sweaty, shaky panic and holding on for the toilet the whole time. Of course, I made it safely to Singapore and had an incredible holiday there. But the fear of the flight home was in the back of my mind for the whole trip.

This continued throughout my childhood. I was lucky to travel quite a lot and while I loved the excitement of exploring new places, I never got over my fear of planes. Take-offs and landings consisted of me gripping my armrest for dear life, eyes squeezed tightly shut, silently willing the plane not to crash.

If you’re wondering why I found planes so terrifying I would decline an overseas holiday, the crux is I was a terribly anxious child. I was severely claustrophobic, very sensitive to stimuli, and trapped in a toxic cycle of negative thinking (this was why I was convinced every plane I was on was going to crash).

These fears culminated on a family trip to Canberra when I was 12. Upon landing and arriving at our hotel, I refused to get in the lift up to our room. My chronic claustrophobia had kicked in yet again. The hotel had no stairs, so the lift was my only option. My absolute terror at the thought of the lift was what finally made my parents realise how debilitating my fears were.

On this holiday, my dad took me aside and gently told me I couldn’t keep living like this. I needed to tackle these phobias. He told me about cognitive behavioural therapy (commonly known as CBT), and how I might find it a great help in beginning to live a life free of my fears. I was very resistant to the idea, but I listened to him.

Once back in Melbourne, we went through the process of finding and waiting for a psychiatrist. I was lucky enough to be sent to a lovely doctor in my local area (something I greatly appreciate now, but didn’t even take notice of back then). My parents proposed a big trip to Europe, and part of the deal was I had to see this psychiatrist and work on my fears of flying and small spaces.

I was resentful and angry but begrudgingly went along. The doctor was kind, listening to my mum describe what had been going on. After hearing everything she had to say, she brought up the idea of hypnotherapy. The idea was completely new to me – undergoing hypnosis in order to get on a plane? I didn’t get it. But, in order to please my parents, I went along every Thursday after school.

This was eight years ago now and when I try to remember those weekly appointments, it’s really blurry. I would soften my gaze and lean back on the armchair opposite my psychiatrist. She would then count down from 10, and I would slowly close my eyes. The doctor would then go on to describe a scene: me sitting down in front of a TV, reaching for the remote and turning it on. I would then watch myself prepare for a flight and board the plane.

In the imaginary scenario, I would successfully sit through a long-haul flight, while remaining calm and content the whole time. When it was time for the hypnosis to end, my doctor would count me back down and I would slowly open my eyes and return to reality. The process felt really weird. I always felt like I couldn’t concentrate, or I wasn’t doing it ‘properly’. But every week, for almost nine months, I turned up to my appointments.

When June came around and my family was ready to depart on our first European summer, I was still dreading the plane. Despite doing nine months of hypnotherapy, I still felt like I wouldn’t survive the flight. The jumbo-taxi pulled up and we lugged our huge suitcases, saying goodbye to our house for five weeks. I still remember the feeling the impending doom.

After making it through customs, duty-free and a big dinner, it was time to board the plane. By this time I was shaking and sweating profusely – my parents’ comforting words went in one ear and out the other. They were reassuring me that I had prepared for this. I’d spent countless hours sitting in that chair, envisioning myself getting on this very plane.

I don’t know what wizardry went on in that psychiatrist’s office, but I made it through the flight. I didn’t just scrape through, barely holding on to my sanity – I was calm. I almost enjoyed the flight. By the time we touched down in London, I remember feeling overjoyed. My parents couldn’t believe it. They didn’t know much about what happened in those appointments, but clearly, it had paid off.

When asked about my experience with hypnotherapy, I have nothing but positive words to share. I still don’t really understand the science behind it, but I can say that the therapy was truly life-changing. The privilege of travel has been made even more special by breaking free of my phobia of flying.

It’s taken a few more long-haul flights to really feel comfortable on a plane. For me, practice is the most important element when it comes to retraining my brain. Now, almost nine years after I underwent hypnosis, I feel confident and capable on flights. I’ve just booked my first solo plane trip (even if just to Sydney). Before hypnotherapy, that would never have been possible. Now I feel like I could do anything.

For more on hypnotherapy, head here.

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