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Don’t Look Down
I am insanely afraid of heights. Something about looking down at all that space beneath me, knowing that if I move just right one way or the other, I could fall to my death, really fucks with my head.
It got worse after I had kids. No rollercoasters or skydiving for me. I didn’t even want to climb up a ladder.
My husband forced me to go on a Ferris Wheel, one of those really fuckin tall ones, about ten years ago, and we almost broke up over it. I’m not kidding. I had a panic attack the whole time, and didn’t talk to him for half a day. Like, until it was time for him to make me food. hehe
Last year, I took my kids to an amusement park where it’s Christmas all year. I thought, I’ll let them have fun and do all the things, and I’ll peruse the Christmas shops and spend the rest of my day at the water park. Cruising the lazy river with a drink in my hand sounded perfect.
Oh no. Hell no.
They begged me to try a few roller coasters. I looked down at their adorable little fifteen and sixteen-year-old faces, and it hit me that I didn’t have much time left to do these things with them. So, I was like, “Hell yeah, mah bruh’s. Let’s do it!”
My husband grabbed my arm, worried, and said, “You sure??”
But I was determined.
