“Come on up! It's not that high.” So says everyone who has never experienced a fear of heights. Me, my heart starts pounding once I go up more than two steps on a ladder. Irrational? I don’t think so. My fear of heights, a.k.a. acrophobia, is an official mental health issue.
I accept that. My phobia is a simple medical condition that affects my brain, just the way arthritis affects my knees. I can climb a staircase, no sweat, except for physical pain produced by those aching, arthritic knees. Phobia pains are just as real, and can result in symptoms like a racing heart, sweating, trembling, and shortness of breath. If I get all the way to the fourth step on a ladder, you’d probably have to kill me to make me get to step five. The vise-like grip of my phobia is that strong. And I dread the day when the ceiling light bulb goes and needs to be changed. I’m short enough to need three steps up to get the job done.
I guess I could try exposure therapy, but …no. After decades of forcing myself to get as high as the third step on the ladder, it is plain to me the fourth step is unreachable.
My solution is to not let any phobia rule my life. I once lived in a fourteenth floor apartment. I could look out the window without breaking into a sweat, and even stood on the balcony (there was a railing.) I can fly. Admittedly, whenever possible I prefer alternative transportation, but my phobia doesn’t prohibit high flying. While taking off leaves my stomach queasy and my heart jumping, landings have me filled with joy. Don’t get me started discussing the one and only time I rode on a ferris wheel. The emotional distress was not worth the alleged “fun.”
The definition of phobia is: an intense and irrational fear of a specific object, situation, or activity. A type of anxiety disorder that may result in a significant impact on a person's life.
For some, spiders are their big terror, for others it’s darkness. While I may jump if an unexpected spider crawls into view, I can take them or leave them after that initial skin-crawling sensation, even “re-housing” one that inadvertently found its way from the outside into my house. Darkness, yes, its spooky in the dark. But if I have to go into a dark place I can take a deep breath and do it - although I do avoid scary movies. I know phobias can be learned. A child who sees the adults they depend on for protection in fear of a thunderstorm may grow up fearing the sights and sounds of approaching storms.
I’ve ridden in a hot air balloon - once. I spent the entire short trip in the grip of terror, while everyone else laughed and enjoyed themselves. Took a white water rafting trip and while others screamed in terror, I just wanted to enjoy another wild ride like that.
So you see, I know what a real phobia is. I would never belittle someone ealing with a real phobia, even if it's one I don’t share it. But sometimes a section of humanity operates on the “give a dog a bad name and you can hang him” principle, and simply tacks that phobia suffix to disguise their own personal dislikes - even prejudices.
Take homophobia. It almost sounds scientific. Some consider it a real illness and think those who have that “disease” need to be understood. It’s not a real disease, nor is it a real mental illness recognized by psychiatrists. Some people may think that adding the “phobia” suffix makes it a real illness. Well, hundreds of years ago some people also believed that demons could inhabit human beings and bring illness and irrational behavior. Apparently humanity hasn’t changed all that much. Homophobia, like transphobia, are manifestations of prejudice, not an illnesses, mental or otherwise.
Having a phobia is not an excuse for bad behavior. I can’t destroy my neighbor’s ladder because I fear I may someday find myself forced to climb it. I certainly can’t use my acrophobia as any kind of excuse for attacking that neighbor. Nor do I let it stop me from enjoying life, I just enjoy the parts of life where I can keep both feet safey on the ground.
