Julie McDowall: beating my fear of flying by stroking my inner chimp

People will comment, saying: 'u ok hun?' but this is just her way of soothing her upset mind.

My mind is more upset than hers, but it's not something 80s pop can cure. I suffer from panic attacks. They're triggered by enclosed spaces so, for years, I couldn't get on a train or in a lift. Even a trip on the motorway became impossible.

Slowly, I conquered those fears but one thing remained impossible: aeroplanes. They're the ultimate enclosed space where you can't open the door, can't open the window and you certainly can't ask the pilot to stop and let you out.

But my boyfriend, David, was offering me Berlin. If I could beat this last terror he'd take me there, but no cheating: no Eurostar, no car, no ferry! We must fly.

My anxiety couldn't be killed by Michael Jackson lyrics. Instead, I booked on to a British Airways course called Flying With Confidence.

In a hotel at Glasgow Airport I met others suffering all kinds of aerophobia: some afraid of crashing, some fearing the loss of control, some claustrophobic.

Every type of fear was gently corralled into a conference room at the Holiday Inn where BA pilots, cabin crew and a psychologist would lecture, comfort and counsel us. It was to be a day of tea, biscuits and mind control, followed by a 40-minute flight.

Senior First Officer Paul Meehan was ex-Navy, now with BA, and was preparing to jet off to Miami later.

He knew a thing or two about flying so, when he told us planes were safe, we should have believed him.

But we couldn't believe it. We were afraid, and fear blocks logic. He said that coming to the hotel this morning was more dangerous than flying. Getting into our cars, driving down the motorway, crossing the road… those were statistically more dangerous. When you step onboard the plane this afternoon, he smiled, it'll be the safest place you've been all day.

Flying was safe, he kept saying, but no-one was mentioning the elephant in the room: what if it crashes? We all know it happens and aren't we tempting fate by sending up a plane full of panicking, nervous flyers?

If there's a cosmic joker out there, or some kind of grumpy God, aren't we sticking two fingers up to him and saying: 'Mon then?' We all know it might crash! Oh, why won't someone say it?

It was the psychologist, Dr Simon Petrie, who addressed the awful, silent thing we were all thinking, and he did it with humour. It almost certainly won't happen, he said, but imagine the headlines if it did! A plane full of aerophobes crashing? We all laughed nervously.

I was glad of this pinch of black humour because I've found the best approach to panic attacks is to laugh at how absurd they are.

It was absurd that, overnight, I could no longer get on my train to work without wanting to scream and pull my clothes off.

Absurd that I needed a tin of chickpeas but when I got to Asda I found I couldn't go in. The place was suddenly too crowded and tumultuous. I was left hanging around the entrance, like a teenager outside an off-licence, wanting to up to an adult and say: 'Here mate, gonnae go in fur me? Get us a coupla tins of chickpeas?'

Humour is vital and Dr Petrie continued using it. He advised we view panic as a chimp: happy to sit in the cage with a banana, but all too easily riled and shrieking. We must learn to soothe him. Stroke your chimp, he said, and don't be afraid to turn to the person beside you to stroke theirs.

But the afternoon passed and we soon had to stop tickling chimps and get on the dreaded plane which was waiting for us across the road at the airport.

We were escorted to the terminal like a party on a school trip, with the pilots and the cabin crew keeping us all in line, making sure we had our boarding passes, making sure no-one was lost or crying.

Onboard, I refused to look at the cabin. If I considered how narrow and enclosed it was I would start to panic. I sat down and quickly buckled myself in, trying to breathe slowly as we'd been taught.

Three rows in front of me a man was crying. I could see his shoulders shaking. A stewardess was crouching in the aisle beside him.

Suddenly all the jolly talk of chimps was gone. Grown men were weeping and I thought of the terrible moment approaching when they'll pull that heavy door closed and I'll be trapped.

What can I do? How can I calm my mind? How can I make a change? I'll start with the man in the mirror. I'm asking him to make a change. No message could be any clearer…the old Michael Jackson lyrics sprang up in my head. I looked down at my clasped hands and murmured the song to myself like a prayer.

Calm, I looked up. The crying man had disappeared. Linda, across the aisle, was rocking in her seat with huge tears running down her face. She had black rosary beads pulled tight round her hands and was saying: 'Get me off this plane, just get me off this plane.'

Dr Petrie sat down beside her. A stewardess, Alison, sat in the seat in front of her and leaned over the backrest . 'Linda, you're safe,' said Alison. 'Look at me, Linda.' But she was pulling the beads tighter and tighter round her hands and seeing nothing. Alison reached down and cupped Linda's chin and tilted her face up. 'Look at me, Linda. You're safe here.'

It was such a tender gesture. Alison was no longer the typical stewardess, smooth and pristine. She was  kneeling on a seat, touching someone's face as they cried.

I saw that no-one was in typical work mode: stewardesses, normally exquisite and perfumed, were being motherly and kind, drying our tears.

Paul Meehan, a pilot, wasn't suave and stern in his uniform, but was bouncing up and down the aisle in shirt sleeves, stopping to chat and crack jokes.

Dr Petrie wasn't clinical and cool, but friendly and warm as he roamed the cabin looking for frightened people who needed him. Even though they were all highly trained professionals they gave the impression they were just our pals and we were going on a trip together. Everyone had slipped out of the role their job and image dictated.

I was glad to see this camaraderie in the cabin, but how would l I feel when they haul that heavy door shut? The plane nudged and started to move. The terrible moment had occurred and I hadn't even noticed!

Suddenly I felt invincible and euphoric. We're off! I wanted to hug everyone! I wanted to stroke hundreds of chimps!

I'm normally a miserable sort and would never strike up conversation with a stranger but now I was transformed. I saw the girl in front of me was nervous so I unbuckled my seatbelt and jumped in next to her. I'm going to stroke her chimp! I'm going to sing Man In The Mirror!

The flight was easy and smooth and when the pilot told us we could see the Forth Bridge from the right hand side I was brave enough to cross the aisle and see the bridge from the air, looking as though it was made from tiny black hairpins.

Back on the tarmac, we were invited up to the cockpit but I was so euphoric I left the plane immediately so I could tell David we could now book our holiday to Berlin.

He suggested we celebrate with dinner in town but, when he mentioned dinner, I realised I hadn't eaten all day, having been too anxious. Hunger combined with my mad euphoria to make me ravenous so we just went across to Braehead to get some quick pizza.

But it was Saturday afternoon, and Disney On Ice had just disgorged hundreds of brats in princess outfits and they were all piling into Pizza Express beside us.

There were no tables, there was no space, and the air was hot and filled with screams and spangles. Everywhere you looked there were wands and tiaras and early-years obesity. I felt trapped. My euphoria started to wilt. Softly, I began to sing Man in the Mirror...

OK, so I'm not entirely cured, but a fear of tubby children is more manageable than a fear of flying.

We had a McDonald's instead and, once greasy fingers had been wiped clean, David got out his tablet and we booked our trip to Berlin. I hear children are thinner over there.

BA's Flying with Confidence Top 10 tips

1. Remember that turbulence is uncomfortable but never dangerous. It is a perfectly normal part of flying caused by nature.

2. Learn to control your breathing. When you feel anxious, hold your breath, then a long deep breathe in, followed by a long deep breath out.Continue long deep breathing.

3. Combine the deep breath in with a muscle contraction. Clenching your buttocks is most effective, as it overrides other nervous signals going up and down your spinal chord.

4. Aircraft like to be in the air. They are designed to be in the air. Pilots and cabin crew like to be in the air also, it is a very normal, safe environment for them to be in.

5. Understand lift. The wings enable aircraft to fly, not the engines. A commercial aircraft flying at 30,000ft can glide for 100 miles even if all the engines fail.

6. Split a long flight up into half-hour sections. Go with a plan of things to do, perhaps things you never get round to. Write a letter, watch a film, read a book, eat a meal.

7. Pilots undergo a rigorous selection procedure and are the most highly trained and tested profession on earth. They are subjected to simulator tests every six months.

8. Commercial aircraft are incredibly well maintained, and are checked before every flight by pilots and engineers. Routine maintenance is conducted at regular, specified intervals by licensed engineers.

9. Air traffic controllers are trained and licensed professionals operating under a very strict set of rules. All pilots have to abide by the rules of the air.

10. Visualise yourself stepping off the aircraft into the arms of loved ones, or into a lovely warm climate, or into a successful business meeting.

www.flyingwithconfidence.com