Tagged: heights

Climb The Wall.

I am not good with heights, internet.

Me and heights had a breakup over a decade ago (god I’m old) when I fell off a chairlift.

Long story.

At any rate, since I was six or so, heights and I have not gotten along. Eiffel Tower? Horrifying. Mt. Hood, Oregon? No thanks. Ladders? I’ll pass.

In spite of this anxiety, I went rocking climbing a few weeks ago with my coworkers as part of a team building activity, and it was amazing. 

I’ve tried rocking climbing on several different occasions, and none of them ended prettily. I panic when I’m about three feet off the ground. Panic-panicking. Like, almost hyperventilating panicking. I have had a panic attack on a porch.

Yes, really.

However, despite breathing like a  stranded fish and sweating like a chubby kid in a sauna, I somehow made it to the ceiling.

Here is proof.

582013_10153507873540594_1593439941_n

That yellow line near the bottom? That’s the ten foot mark.

Goodness, just looking at this photo gives me vertigo.

At any rate, the huge difference was having a group of people at the bottom cheering me on and telling me where to go next, because when you’re fear-clinging to a wall with your sweat-hands 35 feet off the ground, it’s really hard to figure where to put your feet. Mostly because the looking down thing is a huge no-no.

Just goes to show that a second pair of eyes, sometimes, is exactly what you need to get you places you never thought you were going to.

Night internet.

Irrational fears.

I have a lot of irrational fears. They range the gamut from being a mild annoyance in my life to a crippling terror. One of my New Year’s resolution’s this year was to finally take one off the list. It’s not going well.

I think it’s interesting that fear can shift and change a lot over the course of someone’s life. When I was a little girl, I was pretty positive that at one point I was going to wake up and my bed with have floated out of the house because of a giant flood, so I slept with a bag of “survival supplies” (books, a change of underwear, and a chocolate bar). I do not have any idea where this concept came from, although I did live on a lake in Canada in a haunted house. My best guess is that the story of Noah’s Flood confused me. I was not a quick learner.

At some point my fear of flooding magically went away and was replaced with a ridiculous, all-consuming fear of heights. I fell off a chairlift and ended up dangling off of it for the whole ride up. It was unpleasant. I was maybe 10 years old. I still have a vivid memory of this incident. No bueno. Interestingly, I’ve becoming pretty good at handling chairlifts, but gondolas, tall cliff faces, large buildings, balconies, and poorly made porches are a serious no-go for me. I passed out at the top of the Eiffel tower. It was super embarrassing.

Coupled with my fear of heights is a fear I’can really only conceptualized as “fear-of-imagining-myself-falling-from-the-ceiling”. It’s almost like reverse claustrophobia in that I’m not great with large open spaces, but it’s more like I’m timid around large open spaces within buildings. I remember going into a very large cathedral in France and the space between myself and the roof was mindbogglingly awful. I was perfectly aware that I was on the ground and I wouldn’t even be going up somewhere high, but all that space above me was just the worst thing, for some reason.

Thunderstorms. I hate thunderstorms. I don’t like loud, sudden noises. I don’t know.

Australia. Is awful. Read Cracked. Less of a fear, more of a disinclination to go there.

Do you have any awful irrational fears, internet?