With this quote from Emily Dickinson;
'One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house. The brain has corridors surpassing material place.' Mama Kat prompted Susan to write about her claustrophobia.

Susan discovered she was thusly afflicted the day her old man requested her assistance holding up a muffler pipe. He put her on the creeper, slid her underneath the car and she crossed a threshold from which she has been unable to return.

Susan can remember every elevator that's pushed her to the brink of hysteria; in a Seattle parking garage, in Macy's, Herald Square and in any office building she's ever worked. She can get on an elevator when there's no other option. But when there is, she's taking the stairs.

Back in her twenties she was still able to maintain her composure as she climbed the narrow staircase of a local lighthouse, but it took tremendous focus. Now, she wouldn't dare try.

The results of each brush with claustrophobia are bad dreams and heightened anxiety. Susan has learned to manage these side effects relatively well because she's had alot of practice.

During a block party a few years back Susan followed her little sister into one of those inflatable jumpy things and was seized with fear when she stuck her face into the little opening.
Small passageways are off limits to Susan now.

That great scene where Uma Thurman busts her way out of the grave in Kill Bill Vol.2...forget it! Susan risks insanity if she watches it again.

She was sedated to get through this situation, had to stop reading halfway through this article and sometimes she gets claustrophobic if she stares at the bottom of the glass while she's drinking.

Crazy, she knows.


Dawn in D.C. said...

I get crazy when I see the bottom of my glass, too.

Dawn's Dad said...

You are not crazy. I never realized the depth of fears like claustrophobia until I married my wife. She, too has it really bad. Made them resurface the submarine ride at Disney Word one time. Put her in a CT scanner? Forget it. Xanax has become her friend for medical necessities like that, though.

Anonymous said...

oh Susan! I had no idea you had this. I have it too. I'll tell you a tiny secret. I can't have sex in missionary position because I have a panic attack and can't breathe. You are not crazy! Maybe I'll write about mine some day, too.

Cupcake Murphy said...

I'm convinced that anyone who acts calm and normal on an elevator is acting. Those things are terrifying death traps. High five.

Meg at the Members Lounge said...

I almost lost my cookies climbing a tiny spiral staircase in a castle in Ireland. I was in flop sweat when we finally got to the top. Good times!

patti said...

I don't like heights or bridges. Valium is my friend.

The Zadge said...

We all have our things. Put me in an MRI machine, or a crowded elevator, or a tunnel, and I'll be singing a song, thinking about my next blog post. BUT PUT ME ON A HIGH BRIDGE? Make sure there is a CPR kit and new undies nearby.