I first felt it on a flight from Kuala Lumpur to Hanoi. I was flying solo to meet my husband for a holiday on the last day of his business trip. I told myself to calm down. Continue to read my book. And, look out the window. Thankfully, I had a window seat on economy. Every time that sense of desperation crept up, I reiterated the same message. I was in my thirties then. It must have worked. I mostly forgot the incident, and only remember Hanoi and its countryside rather fondly.

I’ve always had a dislike, an aversion, fear or phobia of small, confined spaces and even buildings with low ceilings. I am instantly aware when I’m in a cramped space, with or without throngs of people. My antenna goes on high alert and my emotions are awash. Anxious. Sweating. Palpitations. More so when I can’t leave or get out from these seemingly uninhibiting places. Freely, when I want to, by choice.

 “Claustrophobia is an anxiety disorder that causes an intense fear of enclosed spaces. Claustrophobia is what psychologists call a “specific phobia.” That’s a fear of certain objects, people, or activities. Fear of needles and heights, for example, are two other specific phobias. If you have one, your amygdala, the brain regions that are involved in the fear response, are overactive[1].

Since that one distinct incident, I’ve had smaller events over the years, which thankfully, I’ve been able to overcome. Nondescript enough that I didn’t give them much credence. Until recently, that is. Late one evening, I got stuck alone in my condominium lift. There is an intercom and an emergency button for such occasions. Without hesitation, I pressed the emergency alarm incessantly, despite the guards assuring me that help was on the way. I went from normal to manic. I didn’t think to calm myself. The only thought that was circling my head was to get out. Pools of sweat formed on my forehead and underarms. Not pleasant. Very embarrassing.

After that, I briefly considered our choice, my husband and more so mine, to live on a very high floor in a condominium, which requires travelling in a lift, many times a day. Maybe, it was an unconscious effort to confront my fear of small spaces. Don’t think so.

As I have written many times before, my husband and I eat out almost every evening. There are also some days when we stay in. No problem. Not anymore. I discovered that I now need to get out of my condominium every day. Even if it is to walk out of the lobby, and onto the ground floor courtyard/promenade. Otherwise, I feel hemmed in – an oppressive something heavy sitting on my chest kind of feeling – particularly when I go to sleep. I suspect the many movement control phases, as a result of the pandemic, may have played a part in accentuating the condition. Hmm…

Two decades on, and not having flown in almost two and a half years, the thought of doing a long-haul flight, at night, and on Saudia Airlines made for long ruminations. I was in a quandary on many levels. All of which drove me to Google if claustrophobia got worse with age and for advice/DIYs for my predicament.

“Anxiety disorders don’t necessarily get worse with age, but the number of people suffering anxiety changes across the lifespan. Anxiety becomes more common with older age and is most common among middle-aged adults. This may be due to a number of factors, including changes in the brain and nervous system as we age, and being more likely to experience stressful life events that can trigger anxiety. The types of anxiety that people face may also vary with age. For example, phobias are more common in children, panic disorder is more common in middle-aged adults, and older adults (like me) are likely to experience generalised anxiety disorder[2].”

What to do? Don’t get on an airplane or in any tight spaces or small accommodation. Avoid the triggers. Hmm. No seriously. Seeing a psychologist or mental health expert is recommended. Therapies include amongst others relaxation and visualisation, exposure therapy (gradually facing your fear – hmm… nothing quite like being in an airplane for 15 hours), cognitive behavioural therapy or talk therapy, virtual reality (computer simulations) and medical treatment.

What did I do? I got support as its key in trying to overcome a phobia. I discussed it with my husband, who already knows my history. I felt better knowing he has my back, just in case. I prayed really hard, and made a vow. I did intermittent deep breathing. I talked sense to myself. It did work, somewhat. I’m now in London. And, I’m not thinking about the return flight home until I have to.