Part of the Real People. Real Industry Progress Series

My journey began well before I was even born. 

My paternal grandfather was anxious. So much so he dramatically forwent a full ride athletic scholarship to college the night before he was meant to report to campus. My paternal grandmother was committed with post-partum depression. My maternal grandmother believed she was undiagnosed bipolar. Her mother was committed and died in an institution. My maternal grandfather was incredibly angry and volatile towards his family – which would probably be linked to a diagnosable mental health condition today. My father is anxious and angry – being prescribed multiple medications but never taking them to full effect (more than 1 week) as far back as the 1970’s. My mother was diagnosed as bipolar in her early 40’s and had abused multiple substances. My sister was diagnosed as bipolar around the same time and dealt with multiple substance abuse issues. I always wondered what flavor of mental illness I would have.

Then I found aviation. I became obsessed with reaching the goal of flying for my dream airline. From the age of 16-25 I thought of little else. Idle hands are the devil’s play things, of course. As long as I worked out enough and flew 98 hours a month, I didn’t have a problem. 

Then I went to upgrade training at my regional airline in late 2019. I failed my LOE. It was the first time I failed anything in my life – let alone on my flying journey. I quickly fell into a spiral – questioning my value and identity and had lost my purpose for living. Without friends, I am not sure what might have happened. I passed my retraining and second LOE and was signed off of IOE with flying colors in early 2020. But my life and confidence had been rocked. How could I ever be a good captain – a future major airline pilot? For those paying attention to the timeline, you might know what comes next – a global pandemic.

I ended up being home for 9 months. The first 6 months were paid – a relief to be home without the anxiety of going to work. The last 3 were unpaid, the result of a major tendon injury that prevented me from working. Those three months were so difficult, I literally hobbled to the AME the day after I was freed from my boot to get back to work as fast as possible. I got through the requal with a physical weakness I had not known, and was able to delay one more month when unpaid leaves were offered in 2021. Getting back into the swing and on the horse never really happened. I couldn’t hold a base, so I was constantly being moved. I was avoiding work as much as possible through offered unpaid leave. I was breaking inside with the thought of leaving home. I worried that I would be responsible for the death of myself and passengers with an airplane because of my incompetence (for having failed one checkride). I was advised by multiple people, including my family and health professionals, it was time to take a break.

But alas! A low-cost carrier near my home was hiring. I could get a fresh start. I could leave the regionals and get back into work without the trauma of the failure I had. And so, I did. I had a purpose again. I buried myself in training. I excelled. Once I hit the line I still needed to tune out the noise. So, I began to volunteer for my labor organization. Soon, 3,4,5 committee positions. Then a full-time committee position and maintaining a flying schedule around 60 hours per month – because I needed to get to my major airline. And it happened. I was hired at my dream airline – even awarded my dream widebody in class! Then, my first child was born.

Again, the race had stopped and the pain returned.

With new loves, priorities and responsibilities I couldn’t really continue to shove it down. It began to manifest as full-blown panic attacks – increasing to multiple times a day when I was on the road. I was afraid I would die in a hotel room because of a massive heart attack. Every time I was alone, I would have panic attacks. I would have a panic attack anytime I experienced a heart palpitation,

or heartburn;

or low blood sugar;

or back pain caused by a prior injury;

or thoughts of upgrading during conversations with captains;

or when overnighting in foreign countries far from home;

or enjoying beautiful sunsets on beaches;

or riding on a deadhead when I wasn’t in control of the flight.

This pattern continued. I thought, "if I get another full-time volunteer position and can reduce my flying it will get better." It did not. In fact, it began to bleed into my home life. Anytime I had a cup of coffee, was home alone, driving alone, thinking about work, at the office, in hotels, I had panic attacks. I had lost control over something I used to be able to force way down – what many of us call compartmentalization. I began to think it may be something hereditary and that I was swimming upstream. I started to think I may need medication. However, with extreme fear for my job and everything it took to get here, I continued this way for 2 more years.

Finally, I had transition training for a new aircraft after the birth of my second child. After a break, about a week into training, I couldn’t get on the plane to work. I was paralyzed, right in the airport before boarding. I was sure I was never going to see my children or wife again if I got on the plane. I would never come home. A close friend was a member of the airline’s peer support group. They spoke to me and gave me more numbers and more people to talk with who had gone down the medication road. I cried on the phone with these people. But I remained afraid I would lose my job forever. Everything I had done and paid to get here. My worth at home as a husband and father was tied to money and flying, no matter how miserable I was. It was finally talking with a member of PMHC that I had the courage to make a change. I knew someone would help me get my medical back if I could. I had a resource.

I started by taking a break. I was only planning on a couple weeks off.  My GP recommended a beta blocker for my heart palpitations. My GP even thought this was going to be enough to get me back to work without grounding meds, because treating the palpitations would stop my panic attacks. It did neither. After two weeks – the longest continuous span of being paralyzed I had in my life, I finally had reached the end of my rope and requested an SSRI. 

The next day I took my first dose – and the FAA literally changed the observation period to 3 months within an hour. I couldn't help but think it was something in the universe validating my choice to get help.

I have now stabilized my dosage and have been on the journey of recovery with my therapist. I am uncovering things I had no idea were affecting me, and I am a new person who lives with relief and hope. I know I am not broken, and I am glad I am on my medication. I have not yet applied for my medical – but I honestly do not have any fear around it anymore. I am eligible to reapply this month (May), but now, for the first time in my life, my eyes are open. I am not in a rush, and contrary to my old habits and character, I am prioritizing my health because my physical health and mental health are what's important to being the father, husband and the person I want to be. I am finding myself, who I want to be inside and out, and even if I want to return to flying (I do want to get back to flying but now I can identify values of out the flight deck that may be more important to me). My life is so worth living, including all the pain I have been through. I can say in all honesty, I have one regret, not getting help sooner. I had suffered almost as long as I can remember on the cycle of ignorance and denial. It could have cost me far more - my family, or my life. I am grateful for the work of PMHC, because I no longer worry about getting back to work. Instead, I can take the time to get well, to know who I am and what I value and then start the process with a team on my side when I am ready to get back in the flight deck. More importantly, I can share my story. I hope to let just one person know, your life is worth it. You’re more than flying. You are enough, and there is help. 

Support this work

If you want to help bring more real stories like this into the conversation and continue pushing for change in aviation, you can support the Pilot Mental Health Campaign here:
https://www.pmhc.org/donate