I have never been a fan of flying. People will tell you it's the safest way to travel and all that but I am still not convinced. Anything that requires me to be way off the ground for more than a few seconds at a time is literally too much for me.

Before I take a plane to anywhere, I experience sleepless nights and moments of anxiety that make the experience even more difficult.

What makes it worse for me are these stories that come up every so often about planeloads of people perishing in a crash. This latest story about a Malaysian Airline being shot down over the Ukraine killing all 295 people onboard doesn't help my case. When the story broke yesterday, I was actually having a conversation with a member of the Sunshine Girls who had just arrived in the United Kingdom after leaving Jamaica the night before.

She said it was impossible to sleep because the turbulence was so bad and everybody on the flight seemed nervous. I chose not to mention the tragedy of the Malaysian flight because I know I wouldn't want anyone to mention anything about a plane crash, knowing I would soon have to take a plane myself.

But can you imagine what those people must have felt like as the plane began to disintegrate? It must be the most awful feeling in the world. The realisation that your life is about to come to an end and there is not one darn thing you can do about it. There is also the sickening realisation that even if the initial blast doesn't get you, the fall most certainly will.

I think those fears are real for everyone who has to take a plane to anywhere. People will tell you, "Oh, I love flying!" I always believe that to be a load of crap. Nobody likes flying. They do it because it's a necessary evil. I remember once I was returning to Jamaica from Boston, and this woman in the seat in front of me was declaring to her friend how much she enjoys long flights. I eavesdropped only because I wanted to hear her take on what makes flying so enjoyable. All you do is sit in a cramped seat for hours with the occasional trip to the bathroom between long spells of sitting down. What's enjoyable about that?

Anyway, a few minutes into the flight her façade was revealed when the cabin began to heat up, something I had noticed when we were about to take off. Something was wrong but I didn't want to speak it into reality. As it turns out, I didn't need to. The captain spared me with an announcement saying that they were having some issues with cabin pressure and, as such, they would have to return to the airport we had just departed. The only thing I silently hoped for was that we did make it back.

The woman in front of me who just eight minutes before was talking about how much she loved flying was a nervous wreck. She kept looking over her shoulder to the rear of the plane, with worry lines creasing her forehead as she sweated profusely, too much to be caused by the heat in the cabin. She was deathly afraid. I was like, "Not so enjoyable now, is it?" even as I worried about whether I would ever get to call my girlfriend to tell her we would be delayed, which would be much better than getting word that I would never be coming home.

As for Malaysian Airlines, if I am anywhere and that is the last plane going my way, I would rather wait. We are still trying to figure out where the other one that disappeared earlier this year is.

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