Phobias and Euphorias
Do you have a phobia? One of those debilitating things that, when thrust into a group, can lead to mortifying consequences if the phobia is triggered? Maybe you tell yourself it’s silly, even though your reactions are agonizing and severe.
Well, I’m afraid of the dark. I mean, THE DARK, not nighttime or a murky room. The suffocating brand of darkness when THERE IS NO LIGHT paralyzes me. Consuming, enveloping, blinding darkness. It makes my hands humid, my heart throb, my lungs constrict.
When I was eight, my Mom took us to Mammoth Cave, the longest known cave system on Earth. At that age, a cave represented an other-worldly place. In my hyperactive imagination, I thought it would be like visiting the moon. I. Could. Not. Wait.
I skipped through the historic cave tour like a pro. Nothing at all to fear. Because we enjoyed the heck out of the first tour, we decided to take another, one that visited the wet part of the cave. Things called stalactites and stalagmites oozed from the ceiling and pooled on the floor. I was enchanted by a world where rock looked liquid, undulating around the space like a variant of frozen water full of mud.
That’s when they turned off the lights. The ranger wanted to show us the cave in its ‘natural state,’ one of complete darkness and silence. After two seconds, I started to panic. My palms sweating, I grabbed my Mom and held her in a vice grip and willed myself to swallow every shriek that burst forth from the chamber of my racing heart. It was physically impossible to breathe. For a smattering of seconds, I SAW my own death. I walked out of that cave and promised myself I would never, ever be put in that position again. It was too frightening, the consequences too unbearable for me. My life might be incomplete, but I wouldn’t be a horror-stricken, blithering idiot for some portion of the world to witness.
I guess it doesn’t make much sense that I visited the same cave last week. Four hours of hiking under the crust of the earth - that’s what I bought an advance, non-refundable ticket to do. As I authorized MTM to click purchase, I panicked with a sense of searing dread, a pounding core. I didn’t sleep that night. The most strenuous tour at Mammoth Cave that didn’t crawl through grave-sized spaces HAD to contain the lights-out bit. IT MUST. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
I can’t stand to be right about things that are so wrong for me. Near the end of the tour, they sat us down on benches, forced us to be quiet, and extinguished the lights. Our evil girl-guide let it go on for excruciating seconds longer than I remembered. When it was over, I was spent and dizzy. I swallowed bile in my throat. I staggered through space like I’d gone on a week-long bender.
Maybe I felt euphoria instead of panic. I sent myself through the worst thing I could possibly imagine, and I was fine. Dented. Dinged a little. But fine. I walked through unearthly slot canyons covered with roofs of solid rock. I squeezed through cracks and climbed into soaring caverns that left me teary. Yes, I descended into a pit and craned my neck to glimpse the frilly, liquid rock of my girlhood memory.
What do we miss in life because we fear of a microscopic piece of the whole?
A repost, in part because Andra’s under the weather, and in part to suggest the beginnings of this recent series on caves.
You are a brave soul to face your fear like that Andra. I too have visited a cave like that and experienced the lights going out. It is so dark you can not see anything past your eye lids. I think that I have seen some horror movies that based some of their stories on situations like that where hungry, carnivorous underground dwellers are waiting for unsuspecting rock climbers to wander down into their dens. That feeds the imagination even further and creates more paralyzing fear as well. If I were honest I think that I would say that I would fear being trapped in a very confining space. One of those situations where you are in a building and it collapses or something like that. Crawling around under houses and such. That is not my favorite thing to do.
A building collapse is another great fear of mine, James, especially in Charleston, where we are woefully unprepared for a major shaker.
I, too, visited Mammoth Cave as a kid. I don’t remember being terrfied of the dark, exactly, but scared of being trapped, instead. I look forward to your series on caves. Hope you’re feeling better soon, Andra.
Hugs,
Kathy
Thanks, Kathy. Slept most of the day. Up for a bit to respond to comments, and then back to bed. Hope the move prep is going well.
That last line was a BIG idea. I’m reading Down Aisle Ten and the whole story looks at how fear can drive us mad. It’s meant to be funny, but most of the character’s could be my scaredy cat soul mates.
Maybe fear has already driven me mad. Ha.
I have a bit of claustrophobia, not bad generally, but, enough that I am unable to do a closed MRI; has to be an open one. Tried closed ones twice and unable to complete either one. The other phobia has to do with heights, not a fear of being high, just a fear of getting to close to the edge of a cliff or balcony. Goes back to a dream as a kid that had me jumping off cliffs and unable to stop myself from jumping.
Have been in a number of caves and some in total darkness with hand holds and that has not been a problem. I think the fear creeps in when you can’t see at all and no idea what step is safe and what is dangerous.
You dreamed that you jumped off cliffs as a kid? Where were you? What was happening in your life?
Andra, hope you are soon on the mend. I had missed this post, so to me, it’s not a repost, it’s a first post. Had no idea that you did such a brave thing. I’d never do this.
I don’t know that I can do it again, but I’m proud of myself for doing it
I am alarmed when i see Magpies that are unaccompanied as i fear i am in for a period of bad luck; alternatively if i see a pair on my right hand side i am in heaven!!!?
I hope the Magpies have left you and Margaret alone for some time, Alan. Incidentally, John and Janet Dewis are staying with us in April. When are you and Margaret coming over?
Having once been in a cave in MTM’s home state of Wisconsin, I clearly remember when the lights went out in the cave and that outmost darkness, Andra. You are a braver soul than I am. I don’t think I will ever go back into a cave.
Do feel better asap! I’m sorry for missing so many of your blogs lately, but, should be back pestering you soon.
I am behind on my reading, due to being sick. No worries. Right now I barely check the computer all day.
Very brave, and a bit foolish, but very brave. Nancy has done this once, and I am sure she would never do it again – especially on purpose. I on the other hand would be in heaven. I love sensory deprivation like that.
Just don’t expect me to sit calmly on the top of a mountain or edge of a precipice.
A I hope Andra gets better soon!!
You should visit one of those sensory deprivation tanks. I’d last a nanosecond in one of those things.
We are so often our own worst enemy, particularly when we let irrationality get the upper hand. Kudos for realizing that http://www.hark.com/clips/khlhpvjlnz-the-only-thing-we-have-to-fear-is-fear-itself and rising up to meet it head-on. Hope you feel better, soon!
Every time I am thrust into complete darkness, I become irrational, though.
“thrust into complete darkness” … interesting
You do have a tendency to push your own boundaries Andra. I admire that. If asked to do the same, I’m not sure I would…and I’d definitely have to be asked because I cannot imagine me doing it of my own free will and my own thought process. You are fair more gutsy than a lot of people I know…myself included and I like to think I’m very brave.
You are one of the gutsiest people I know, Lori. Just look at your hair.
Oof. I haven’t yet found that thing which inspires pure terror, though I’m sure it exists. I was afraid of fire as a child, but taught to love it as a scout. I curl up in a ball of nauseated misery every time I publish something, but I can’t help myself doing it again. I am afraid of speaking/performing in front of a crowd, but it was nothing to the thrill of applause… one of these days, though, something will find me. Of that, I have no doubt.
Sorry to hear that you’re not feeling well… healthy thoughts to you!
Thank you. I hope that thing you fear never finds you.
I have a different type of cave to deal with – the NYC subway system which can go several floors below street level. Add that to rush hour plus being a bit claustrophobic and it can become quite uncomfortable from time to time, esp. when the trains stop between stations and the lights flicker or go out briefly. I have become very aggressive about getting a seat and zoning out with a book, water and munchies.
In NYC, I have never ridden the subway and had the lights flicker, but I have had moments of being packed too tight. I always keep my phone in my hand on the subway, in case the lights go out………..
I love Mammoth Cave. I need to get the kids there. I think the reason you did it was to confront a fear, and you WON. Yay! Sorry I’ve been so absent. It’s been a little batty.
It was worth it.
The countryside around here gets totally black on cloudy nights. It was on such a night that I attempted to walk, very drunk, from a bar to our house – some kms. I couldn’t see anything – not a slope, a ditch nor a concrete post but I experience them all to the full:)
Haha. Thanks for making me laugh when I feel like crap, Roger.
I read 1984 when I was a kid. I think my fear stems from that. It is a fear of people knowing what scares me enough to break me. No idea why anyone would want to break me but fear does not have to be rational.
You know, I thought about that one after I posted how fearful I am of this. Would somebody actually read my comment and use it to try to break me someday? How stupid am I?? So, I’m with you.
That’s it: your writing about caves was so vivid, and I see why. You are very brave to volunteer for a return, Andra – congratulations, you are made of stern stuff. And your cave writing is amazing.
Thanks, Kate. I enjoyed doing that series very much.
I do hope you’re feeing better soon, Andra. I don’t like thinking of you being really “down” for long! I enjoyed reading about your phobia, and the overcoming of it. I don’t have any real phobia, but I have many fears that do hold me back at times. Most predominantly–I will fly if I must, but I don’t seek out travel, because I don’t like to fly. I guess it could be argued it’s a phobia–I am genuinely afraid– but I suppose I play with categorizing it as such! You were very brave to take on the cave. And I agree with Kate…no wonder the environment in your latest series was so believable!
I thought going to a New Kids On The Block concert would be my phobia but when my wife made me go with her 4 years ago, it turned out to be an amusing story I’d only do once.
I don’t have any terrors. I go to the mall with my wife and daughters every so often and that just sucks.
It’s great you confronted yours. I’m scared of only snakes, motorcycles and redheads. Maybe I need to confront those 3. well, just the snakes and motorocycles.
Get well soon.
What the hell, Andra. After conning your husband into writing your blog for you, in addition to his ‘nursmaid’ duties (which I’m sure are never ending), here you are… yaking it up nonstop. Sick means sick; now stop it and go back to bed.