Acrophobia (from the Greek: ἄκρον, ákron, meaning “peak, summit, edge” and φόβος, phóbos, “fear”) is an extreme or irrational fear of heights
I have a mild to moderate fear of heights. Interestingly enough, my level of fear fluctuates (but never disappears) based on other factors in my life – mostly how overwhelmed I am feeling or how confident and secure I feel (about my work, my business, relationships, my parenting, etc.) My fear often lurks in dark corners, exposing itself periodically during mundane events in life. Let me give you a few examples:
I have no problem with flying, but going up on my (mostly flat) roof to clean the gutters is a genuine ordeal. One year (several years ago), my neighbor saw me lying prone on my roof trying to clean my gutters and sharply told me to “Get down!”. Apparently, he found watching me belly crawl with complete terror on my face distracting and worrisome to him. I did as he said, and to be honest, I haven’t cleaned my gutters since.
Using a tall extension ladder to clean windows (in my split level home – essentially only 1.5 stories off the ground) requires days of psychological and emotional preparation in my head. Instead, for the last few years, I have hired someone to clean them for me. (One year, a friend cleaned them for me.)
I often require deep breathing to conquer the escalators at the mall- because they are placed directly next to the edge, with glass railings and a view of the straight drop to the basement level. Oh, and the mall is only four stories.
My company’s annual Christmas party is on the 3rdfloor (they are very TALL floors) of our Convention and Visitor’s Center. The escalators are slightly inset (thankfully), but the railing is clear glass, so I tend to walk, as quickly as possible, towards the outside walls (which are furthest from the railing), because I have an irrational fear of plunging to my death. (To my credit, I will walk up the stairs (which are on the outside edge, looking down). It is, of course, less of a walk than a sprint, purposefully looking away from the “death drop” (as I fondly think of it). My excuse for taking the stairs is that I need the exercise. The reality is that I want to think I have somesmall level of control over my fear and it is my own mini-victory. (Ok, I need the exercise, too).
My acrophobia hasn’t (completely) incapacitated me in a long while, but it definitely created many unexpected mini-challenges in my life.
Yet, I persevere. Sharing my fear with you helps remind to me that facing and naming fears is the first step to overcoming them. Although I can’t conquer them all at once, I hope that by naming it aloud, I will have stripped it of some of its power, and that victory, though small, is a victory nonetheless. Every battle fought and victory one is one step closer to success.
Join me in naming your fears and vanquishing them, one step at a time. I will be cheering you on. Thank you for doing the same for me!
