I've been embarrassed by people witnessing my reactions to my phobias, but never of the phobias themselves. Until now.
I've recently noticed that I am growing increasingly fearful of elevators- a problem which I'm not okay with. I believe it's a mix of my claustrophobia and that time my sister, niece, and I got trapped in the library elevator. It seems that every time I find myself in an elevator, my heart rate goes up and I catch myself holding my breath until the doors open up again.
It's almost comical. I mean, I get claustrophobic on planes, which are clearly the more dangerous of the two, but I seem to panic more on elevators than the metal birds I seem to find myself sardine-packed into every couple of months.
Frankly, it's embarrassing. Elevators freak me out. Then again, so does claymation and I've never really been ashamed to talk about that one. I just think it's irritating and odd that I've somehow managed to find another thing that makes me want close my eyes and pray for it to be over. At least I haven't gotten to the point where I'll only take the stairs. I suppose I'm a bit too lazy for that one.
No comments:
Post a Comment