Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

Acrophobia: (n.) extreme or irrational fear of heights

It has to be that scene in the movie, Cliffhanger.

THAT particular vision–a woman suspended in mid-air, thousands of feet above the earth, only prevented from falling by a hand extended to her, as the glove on her fingers gradually begins to slip away and you realize she is about to tumble to her death.

If you are able to watch that scene without turning away, you might be free of acrophobia. Matter of fact, it would be an excellent way to diagnose the condition.

That was when I realized that I must be a bit acrophobic. For me, that little piece of the movie was unwatchable. It’s not so much that I’m afraid of falling or even hitting the rocks below. Certainly my body would grant me the mercy of a heart attack before I reached the “stoneful” end. It’s just the idea of having to prepare for my upcoming plummet by pausing for a moment to think about it, terrorizing myself.

I don’t like to stand too near the edge of a cliff. Now, I don’t remember feeling this way as a youngster, even though growing up in Ohio, there were not many a precipice. But somewhere along the line I became leery, and even queasy, about gazing off the edge of some high-mounted place, to the tiny confines below.

I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of whatsoever. I just don’t like to be around people who want to flaunt their “bravery on the edge.” You know what I mean–those folks who stand on one foot on the ledge of a building. Or the guy who walks across the rope over the Grand Canyon, while praying. I’m sure I would be praying, too, but I think I would like to put my supplications to less of a test.

Acrophobia is real. But I do recall, if I am not incorrect, that there are two fears we are born with: the fear of abandonment and a fear of falling.

So maybe those people who DON’T have acrophobia are aliens … and should be taken to Area 51 for further study.