My Story in Lists|Things I'm Afraid of

Last week I was up North visiting my sister. Like normal, since I'm not limited to one bag and a carry-on, I tend to over pack. This trip was no exception. Laptop, iPad, iPad keyboard and Listography, My Book of Lists were all in tow as I had planned to spend my down time writing. Who would know that there would be no down time?

My Listography book caught Christie's eye. And why wouldn't it? It's bright and cheery, interesting looking. Just looking at it makes me happy and encourages me to write.

She asked about it and I explained what it was for. Showing her some examples, I turned to the Page which read...things I'm afraid of. I had just one thing listed, lizards. I am terrified of lizards. They make me shudder, literally. I don't like that I see them on warm and sunny days almost all the time now. I love that Belle is around because she can be my protector from those creepy, slithery things.

I blame part of my fear on what happened in Puerto Rico. Even as a 2nd/3rd grader, I never really cared for them, but I didn't shudder at the sight or thought of lizards. Until one day when Victor found the smallest lizard I ever saw. It was so slight that the skin was almost translucent. Vic was about six years old at the time and he had it in the palm of his hand, taunting me with it, lifting it up towards my face as I insisted that he leave me alone.

Finally, in desperation, I shoved my brother's hand away from my face and in doing so, the lizard went flying through the air and my brother losing his balance took a step backwards, squashing that poor little lizard to death. He cried, Greg and Eliz got mad at me and I was indignant and grossed out by the whole thing. As an adult, I feel badly about it, but from that moment on, my fear of lizards grew exponentially.

I explained to Christie that I was afraid of other things, but at the time I wrote on the page of fears, only one thing came to mind. During the next day as we explored the streets of San Francisco, many of my other fears came to meet me, face-to-face.

The fear of driving across long bridges. 

I hate, hate, hate driving across them. I'm okay with short bridges, the kind that you can clearly see the other side as you start across the water.

Kind of like the Rainbow Bridge pictured above, but the Golden Gate or the Bay Bridge? I get queasy. It doesn't help to know that part of the Bay Bridge collapsed during the SFO earthquake.

I'm afraid of heights, looking down from a high place. I can't get near the edge, even when I know there is a barrier or enclosure. I'm afraid that it won't hold or that for some unknown reason I will hurl myself off the edge. On 9/11, I was horrified by the jumpers on the Trade Centers. I couldn't imagine the pain and suffering they must have felt to jump to their death. They were living my nightmare and those images will haunt me forever.