The only way I stay sane is by looking outside.
Through the window, that’s how I distract my mind.
It’s an illusion.
When I look outside I see a vast universe, a wide space with no boundaries. Once I look back in, I realise I’m still in this very narrow space.
It’s all in my head; the walls are collapsing, I can’t move, I can’t breathe. Gasping for air, I return my gaze back to the window. Figuring a way to make it all vague again.
On and again, it’s my therapy until we finally land.
Long lines of passengers grabbing their luggage. I sit patiently trying not to freak out, or even worse, pass out. My tummy still playful, I could feel my muscles tight, my blood rushing through my veins, but all I show is patience. For I know, it would get even more suffocating if I stand in line with this bunch of unknown faces.
So I wait until I’m the last to leave. Grab my luggage and rush to the exit door.
Another successful flight!