How I faced my forgotten phobia in the forest
Until Thursday, I'd entirely forgotten that I have an actual phobia. It's a sort of fear of heights, but more specific. I can stand and look over cliffs with no problem. What I have trouble with is climbing or moving at heights, especially when I start on the ground and get to about my head height. Then I freeze.
I last remember experiencing this when I was about 16 and visiting a friend whose father needed something retrieved from a largeish tree. As I was the tallest I volunteered, or was volunteered, to climb up and get it. I got to about the height of my head and duly froze. I retreated slowly, much to my humiliation and much to the annoyance of my friend's father who thought I was playing the fool.
Since then I have - through luck or unconscious effort - avoided similar situations. It's not too surprising I forgot about it. Phobias are not my style and I've outgrown a lot of weaknesses since I was 16.
Someone did once suggest to me that I join them climbing up to the roof of a three storey building while on ketamine. You will be pleased to hear that I refused; but I don't think that was due to specific awareness of this phobia, rather a general awareness of how nice it is to be alive with unbroken legs.
So. Fast forward to Thursday, when we went to a sort of adventure park in a forest outside Olsztyn. You climb 9 metres up to a platform on a tree, then walk, clamber, swing, precariously balance, etc. from tree to tree across a series of wires, nets, ropes, narrow wobbling logs, hoops and so forth. It takes about an hour to go round.
Iza went up first. I started second, got to about my head height, and froze. I remembered: I can't do this. I tried telling myself all the sensible stuff but it was too late - I was already frozen. I gave up and backed down. At least now I have the confidence to say no to something that doesn't feel right for me without feeling embarrassed.
But as Iza's brother and girlfriend climbed up, I started to reconsider. I have indeed outgrown a lot of weaknesses since I was 16. I have much better control of my mind. Phobias are truly not my style. I was free to walk away; I was also free to prepare myself properly and then do it very slowly, one rung of the ladder at a time.
I told myself all the sensible stuff and started up again. Very slowly. It was the most difficult thing I have done in quite a long time but I made it to the platform.
The first obstacle was the hardest (though not nearly as hard as the ladder up). After that it was mostly fun. And a while later it was all fun.
Nine metres is high. That's Iza reaching the starting platform:
Me in midair, walking on wires:
The small black figure suspended next to the red punchbag things is Iza, completing the last challenge of the course:
Me whizzing along on one of the shorter zip wires (aka foefie slides):
Sticking out my tongue at you:
One has to wonder how much of the intense grin is from joy (I'm having fun!), how much is relief (I'm still alive!) and how much is residual terror (Terror!)...
At the end of the course we had an opportunity to climb to a higher platform - perhaps 15 metres - then fly down a 120 metre zip wire slide to thwack into some padding in another tree. I had a few butterflies about the climb but did it with reasonable confidence.
Oddly I was pretty relaxed about flinging myself into the air 15 metres above the ground suspended only from a wire to hurtle 120 metres forwards, while everyone else was much more reluctant. It's a bit like flying in an aircraft: it's all down to the equipment and statistics. Once you're in the air, there's not much you can do to screw it up.
I last remember experiencing this when I was about 16 and visiting a friend whose father needed something retrieved from a largeish tree. As I was the tallest I volunteered, or was volunteered, to climb up and get it. I got to about the height of my head and duly froze. I retreated slowly, much to my humiliation and much to the annoyance of my friend's father who thought I was playing the fool.
Since then I have - through luck or unconscious effort - avoided similar situations. It's not too surprising I forgot about it. Phobias are not my style and I've outgrown a lot of weaknesses since I was 16.
Someone did once suggest to me that I join them climbing up to the roof of a three storey building while on ketamine. You will be pleased to hear that I refused; but I don't think that was due to specific awareness of this phobia, rather a general awareness of how nice it is to be alive with unbroken legs.
So. Fast forward to Thursday, when we went to a sort of adventure park in a forest outside Olsztyn. You climb 9 metres up to a platform on a tree, then walk, clamber, swing, precariously balance, etc. from tree to tree across a series of wires, nets, ropes, narrow wobbling logs, hoops and so forth. It takes about an hour to go round.
Iza went up first. I started second, got to about my head height, and froze. I remembered: I can't do this. I tried telling myself all the sensible stuff but it was too late - I was already frozen. I gave up and backed down. At least now I have the confidence to say no to something that doesn't feel right for me without feeling embarrassed.
But as Iza's brother and girlfriend climbed up, I started to reconsider. I have indeed outgrown a lot of weaknesses since I was 16. I have much better control of my mind. Phobias are truly not my style. I was free to walk away; I was also free to prepare myself properly and then do it very slowly, one rung of the ladder at a time.
I told myself all the sensible stuff and started up again. Very slowly. It was the most difficult thing I have done in quite a long time but I made it to the platform.
The first obstacle was the hardest (though not nearly as hard as the ladder up). After that it was mostly fun. And a while later it was all fun.
Nine metres is high. That's Iza reaching the starting platform:
Me in midair, walking on wires:
The small black figure suspended next to the red punchbag things is Iza, completing the last challenge of the course:
Me whizzing along on one of the shorter zip wires (aka foefie slides):
Sticking out my tongue at you:
One has to wonder how much of the intense grin is from joy (I'm having fun!), how much is relief (I'm still alive!) and how much is residual terror (Terror!)...
At the end of the course we had an opportunity to climb to a higher platform - perhaps 15 metres - then fly down a 120 metre zip wire slide to thwack into some padding in another tree. I had a few butterflies about the climb but did it with reasonable confidence.
Oddly I was pretty relaxed about flinging myself into the air 15 metres above the ground suspended only from a wire to hurtle 120 metres forwards, while everyone else was much more reluctant. It's a bit like flying in an aircraft: it's all down to the equipment and statistics. Once you're in the air, there's not much you can do to screw it up.