Objectively, I know how ridiculous it sounds before it comes out of my mouth. The fear I have within me isn’t something that just anyone can appreciate because it’s such a rare condition. Well, objectively rare.

Ugh, there I go again; repeating myself.

Let me explain. I have aeroacrophobia. It’s essentially the fear of open, high spaces. I’m not afraid of heights. I live on the top of a mountain, for crissakes. I don’t piss myself every time I open my door in the morning. But I think that’s because I’m surrounded by trees. Somewhere, deep in my mind, they’re anchoring me.

One time I went hiking with my friend, neglecting to tell him of my fear, even though I knew were heading out to a mountainous area. I figured then what I figured now: he wouldn’t understand. Then we went out on something called an ‘overlook’. We cleared the tree line and I dropped.

I hugged the mountain below me.
I willed it hold me back.
The sky was pulling me upwards.
I would fall forever.
My death was imminent.

God help me.