I haven´t told you much about flying lately. That mostly because well, I haven´t flown much at all. I was completely drowned by stress; whenever I tried to focus on flying, I either could not concentrate or would space out. The situation was dangerous both for me and for my instructors; a fatal mistake could be the end of both of us.
After discussing it with my instructors, I decided to downgrade my membership. Paying a fortune not to fly at all would be a sour waste of money. Better to stay on the ground and fly once in a while – I would not learn much or be able to expand my skills, but at least I would stay involved in the club, and retain my place among the others.
I´ve missed not just the physical act of flying, but the emotional clarity and the freedom of mind needed to engage in it at all. Most of all, I felt like a big rock. Unable to move. Unable to go anywhere. It wasn´t just planning surgery, or moving around due to construction work, or news that my grandmother has come down with cancer.
It seemed to all rain down on me at once. As life does. No small bits, nothing bite size, but all at once in an avalanche of unbearable memories and anxiety. There was no place left for anything. Most of the time I either wanted to sleep or temporarily die, which perhaps is sort of the same thing.
After the quicksand, as last year, things seem to be speeding up. I have a new gender therapist who says she will respect my boundaries, I´m on injections, I think shark week has stopped, and I´m on the waiting list for surgery. Things are looking a bit brighter than they did two weeks ago.
Most significantly, I dreamed about flying a week ago, and as of right now, I have the sensation that I am airborne. Usually this means that things are headed in a better direction, and perhaps it also means that I am ready to get in the cockpit again. I will try one of these days and see how it goes.