Claustrophobia in a Dark Cabin with 6 Hours to Go

Last night I breathed a sigh of relief after an uncomfortable and unfamiliar situation. I was seated way, way back in row 37 of the Boeing 737, tucked into a window seat. The flight was about two hours old, and the movies were long over. Beside me a Chilean woman snoozed, everyone was asleep and the plane was dark. I suddenly felt anxious, nervous, and claustrophobic there in my little bubble. I didn’t want to wake up the woman beside me, but finally I did. Ugh, I had to get out of there…but where was I going?

I thought about the duration of this flight. Eight hours. Then I thought about my trip to Venice in October–6 or 7 hours–and then with an even more strenuous sigh, contemplated New Zealand in November–12 hours. Oh God, I’ve got to cancel, I thought. I can’t put myself into one of these tubes for a long flight like this again! I got almost panicky, thinking that no matter how hard I wanted to get out, I was trapped. I had to wake her up.

I strode down the dark aisle, sweating and feeling anxious. The claustrophobia was a new feeling, I had only briefly had this before. I went up front and spoke to a flight attendant who was in the galley. “Do you ever get claustrophobic on the plane?” I asked. “No, she said, and gave me a newspaper. Later as I nervously paced trying not to get in the her way, she offered me a large seat where the other FAs were just getting up from their naps.

I took my seat there, stretched out a bit with no one next to me, and a wave of relief washed over me as I plugged in my headphones and soothed myself with familiar music. Ok, ok, I will go on my next two trips, and probably fly many more times after this. My advice to anyone who shares an experience like this: They have ways to make you more comfortable, all you need to do is ask.