I just don’t understand how people can be so comfortable on an airplane as if they were having the time of their lives on it and they come out refreshed. I get on an airplane already dead from knowing what’s going to happen then the airplane ride walks over to me and stabs me 50 more times just for the fun of it. On every single flight to China, except for one, I’ve thrown up and one time I fainted. In order for me not to vomit as much as I did when I was three, when I filled up an entire barf bag and cover the entire seat with it, I need to starve myself for the entire plane ride and the time around it. It’s not just the airplane ride that’s horrible, it’s the whole package; packing, going to the airport, security check, the plane ride, baggage claim, driving, and all that other stuff.
The first thing I do in my routine is nibble on a microscopic breakfast so I won’t become sick on the car ride to the airport. Then, I shove the rest of the essentials I own and drag myself to the airport. If I get to the airport and it’s around lunch I’ll probably eat nothing even though I’m starving because I know it’s just going to go back up the other way. Next, I go through security check which I just feel like is so painfully slow when your standing in line and then when you actually go to the checking part, it feels like the whole world is pressuring you to go faster. After that I head to the gate, which takes forever because at this point I’ve become a zombie; I’m walking so slowly the people standing on those flat escalator like things are passing me and like I’ve said before, I’m dead. We’re always early whenever we get there, so we have to sit in the waiting area. At this point I’m so irritated because my family has forced me to go on this stupid flight.  I’m also hyperventilating because reality just hit me smack in the face that I’m going to be on a 12 hour flight starting very soon.

Once the speaker announces we’re beginning to board now, I start wheezing even louder because now I know… it’s starting. I enter the plane and I smell it… COFFEE!!!!!!! I hate coffee no matter what form or what strength, I just hate and now I’m stuck with it for twelve hours. I’m soooo happy!!!!!!!! I trudge over to my seat and I realize how small the seat is and is just in total shock. Was whoever designed this airplane mentally challenged, what type of person can survive for 12 hours with only one inch of space? Then, I have to take the terrible smell of coffee and the microscopic seat all in for about 30 minutes, before we start lift off and I have new feelings to worry about. Thirty minutes pass and the new feeling have come, we’ve begun our ascent and I feel like I’m being smooshed into a pancake. I hate that feeling, the feeling of being on a roller coaster. I attempt to fall asleep since it’s the only thing I know of that numbs the pain once the ascent has ended. The only things I do when I’m awake is watch whatever movie is on the screen, use the restroom, and swallow the tiniest drops of water.

Twelve hours pass and we’re starting our descent, this is the part where I’m most likely going to throw up because I’m already airplane sick, so it’s just trying to push me past the breaking point; and it usually succeeds. I hate the feeling of descending way more than the feeling you get when you lift off. It’s the exact same feeling as the Tower of Terror in Disneyland which I know is one of the worst sensations in the world. Once I exit out of the plane, I walk like someone who’s been shot everywhere but won’t die to the foreigners entrance which is just the beginning of waiting in line for days. The foreigners entrance is always three times larger than the citizen line, our luggage is always in the last one third to appear in baggage claim, and we have to wait in line for a large enough of a taxi to hold all our luggage and us. Once they find a taxi, another three hours worth of time is spent in close quarters with more turbulence. Taxi drivers don’t care about who they’re driving for, all they care about is how much money is created which is based on how many miles they drive instead of time. The taxi driver has met our destination, our hotel, and we go up to our room where I collapse on the bed and curl into a ball, traumatized. I spent about an hour there just reflecting on what I’ve been through. Once I’ve calmed down enough, I get my act together and walk to my grandma and grandpa's house. There, I eat the delicious meal they’ve prepared for me and hang out for a bit before we have to go back to the hotel. We arrive at our hotel and enter our room where I perform my nighttime routine half asleep and crawl into bed where I fall asleep instantly since it’s three in the morning in America.

When I was three and we had to fly out to visit my grandparents. At that time I was extremely naive when it came to airplane rides so whenever the flight attendant came around to offer us a drink I would order Sprite and drink the whole thing. I felt so sick be the end that I threw up enough to fill up the barfbag that they provide you and all over the seat. What still amazes me is how much was able to come out of my three year old body.
On my most recent flight to China, I decide to attempt to eat on the plane without vomiting since the time before I didn’t do it. I ate some chicken and drank more water than I usually would on a flight. At baggage claim I felt a bit light head so I sat down while my mom and sister got the bags. They finished retrieving all the bags and started to leave when I felt too light headed to walk on my own so mom linked arms with me and as we’re walking to sit down I black out for a fraction of a second and start feeling like I need to vomit. I sit down and start to vomit which hurt so much because it’s like someone is punching your frail body in the stomach while there is acid rising in your throat. Once I started feeling a bit more stable, I was able to slowly inch towards the car and to my dad’s apartment without barfing again.