Posts Tagged ‘fear of flying’

Passing and failing

Gabe

On consecutive days, Gabe passed his latest piano exam (grade 6? 7?) and failed his driving test. He hadn’t thought he had done particularly well in the piano exam, but was awarded a distinction. This didn’t impress him: “It means nothing,” – a reference I think to his more meaningful exams this summer.

The driving test was going well until his dreaded roundabout, with four exits, three of which are bunched together in a little more than 90 degrees of the circle. He committed a major fault: entering the roundabout while another car was on it. He plans to re-take the exam in the summer.

Robin

Robin, accompanied by L, took a fear of flying course, culminating in a flight for the course participants. His interest in visiting places, and more immediately a football tour and school trip which both involve flights, had inspired him to confront his anxiety. Robin was responsive to the reassurance offered on the course and managed the flight – even coping with the take-off without holding L’s hand. Future flights, he thinks, will be easier as the plane won’t be packed with nervous people, sobbing as they climb the steps and tapping themselves in the approved manner to distract from their fear.

Eliza

J is a friend of one of Eliza’s gym group. First they went jogging together. Now, fairly frequently, they visit each others’ houses. “Are you and J going out together?” I asked (ie boy/girlfriend). “No.. not yet,” she replied. That was a few weeks ago. It looks to us as though they are. Eliza seems happy and level-headed about it.

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Flying to Portugal (or not)

Fear of flying (Gabe’s and Robin’s) meant that the holiday was put out for consultation with the kids at the turn of the year. “We will go somewhere we can reach by train, if you prefer,” they were reassured. Portugal got the go ahead.

In the weeks running up to our departure (the first day after schools broke up for summer), Gabe began to raise objections, in an ‘on and off’ fashion. L and I had a ‘final’ discussion with him on Thursday evening, two days before departure: “tell us now, or never.” He reluctantly agreed. But the agonised discussion recurred the following evening and eventually Gabe opted not to come – if he could stay with his Grandpa, which kindly, at barely two days’ notice, he agreed.

Four of us left on Saturday afternoon for the airport, with Gabe at home awaiting the return from holiday of Auntie S and family, who then took him back to Scotland with them on Monday.

Robin coped with the flight, but was highly anxious before the plane took off, settling once we were airborne and needing to grip L’s hand throughout.

Up in Scotland, Gabe studied and seemed to find a daily rhythm that complemented his Grandpa’s routine. He also had time with Auntie S and family as well as Alistair and Emily. He returned home a day before us, travelling from Scotland alone. The fraught decision to forego his holiday seemed to deliver a timely experience of independence.