Sursumdeorsumphobia

     By the title of this weeks blog you can guess that I am writing about a phobia or a fear that I have.  The first part of the word may seem a bit confusing.  In Latin, sursum means up and deorsum means down.  So together sursumderosumphobia means fear of traveling up and down.  In layman's terms I have a fear of elevators. 

     I am not afraid of heights.  In fact I love traveling in an airplane (although my last airplane ride was in the spring of 1996 to Las Vegas) and seeing how beautiful the world appears in a bird's eye view.  I can look over a tall hilly landscape and be mesmerized by the surrounding view.  I am not afraid of tight, closed-in spaces.  I don't seem to mind it in a bit.  However elevators, after so many floors, makes my heart race, my breath to cease, and my head to spin. 

     I can probably trace my fear back to elementary school where in reading class we had to read SRA (Science Research Associates) stories that were color coded to our reading level.  My reading level was in a rose colored section which meant I was an average reader.  We would have to read so many stories, like 15 or 20, and answer questions about the story, then we could move up to the next color and set of stories.  This one particular story had to deal with an elevator operator who died when his elevator plunged down some skyscraper killing him.  On the eve of the anniversary of his death the ghost of the elevator operator reappears and recreating the tragic event.  Sometimes he takes victims with him in his recreated event.  People can hear the screams and the sound of the elevator swooshing through the vertical corridor as it makes its way to the bottom.  I must of been in the first or second grade when I read this and it scared the daylights out of me.  The hand drawn picture that was on my SRA story card was spooky enough.  Chills ran up and down my spine and I read it.  I don't think it was the ghost part of the story that scared me.  It was the realization at such a tender age that elevators, and their cables, could break causing the elevator to soar to the bottom of the building.  Thankfully I didn't have to go into elevator's that much. 

     Now I can handle going into an elevator one or two floors with no problem.  I figure I have a better chance of survival from a lower height in case something does go wrong.  Also, being closer to the ground if the elevator does plummet it would be a shorter fall time-wise.  I probably won't have time to think about what just had happened.  If I am 20+ stories high then I am going to have a moment to think, "Oh crap!  I am falling to my death in a tin box!"  I wouldn't want my last thoughts to be like that.

     I never realized how bad my fear was until my senior class trip in high school.  We went to Chicago and visited the Sears Tower, or what is now called the Willis Tower.  It was the tallest building in the world from 1973 to 1998.  It beat out the first World Trade Tower and was finally surpassed by the Petronas Twin Towers.  The observation deck in on the 103rd floor of the building.  An elevator can go from the ground floor to the 103rd floor in around a minute time.  It is so fast that people can feel the pressure change as they go up. 

     Outside of the building I remember looking up, straight up, to see the height of where we were going.  If I am ascending to the near the top of the tower in 60 seconds then how quickly would I be descending if the cables broke?  How strong are the cables?  Are the cables getting overused and worn down and going to snap during my rise to the top?  These thoughts flooded my mind. 

     Our teacher ushered us inside and made our way through the zigzag of ropes and video stations of how the Sears Tower was made.  Watching that only strengthened my fear.  We neared the elevators.  A fear like I had never known swept across me.  I begged my teacher for me to stay back.  He wouldn't let me.  I was forced to go.  I tried not to make a huge scene as I pleaded with the teacher that I could not do this.  He didn't care.  He couldn't let a student stay behind.  I understand his point of view but how I wished there was an adult that would have stayed back with me.  Several of my classmates and I crowded into an elevator.  The doors shut.  My eyes closed.  I was near the side wall holding on to a railing.  I had to remind myself to exhale slowly.  I could feel the elevator starting to rise.  The other students were having fun whooping it up with the feeling.  Some thought it was fun trying to jump in the elevator.  I could feel the elevator starting to sway and shake a bit.  I couldn't tell if it was from the students or if it is was normal for the elevator to move like that.  I crouched down on the ground still holding onto the bar for dear life.  I started screaming, "MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!  I WANT TO GET OFF!"  Tears started to trickle down my face.  I didn't care anymore about not making a scene.  I was beyond petrified.   Finally the elevator stopped.  I couldn't breathe.  The elevator moved down slightly to adjust itself.  When I felt that downward motion I believed that the elevator was ready to make its way careening downward and I was preparing myself to be lifted off the ground due to the fall.  I did manage to find enough to breath to shout out, "WHY DID WE STOP?  WHAT'S GOING ON?  WHAT'S WRONG?!"

     The doors opened.  The students happily made their way out of the elevator and onto the observation deck.  I literally crawled on my hands and knees out of the elevator.  I was so happy to be out of the can of death.  My legs were so numb and weak they couldn't support me.  I crawled my way to a bench and pulled myself up to a sitting position.  I sat there for a moment while my body regained feeling and I was able to breathe again. 

     The view was stunning.  On all sides of the  building we could see forever.  While looking around the different windows my eyes kept shifting around looking for an exit with a stair sign.  I couldn't get truly comfortable because I knew we would have to be going back down the elevator.  DOWN!  I even asked the teacher if I could take the stairs and he laughed and said the stairs don't go that high.  I didn't know whether to believe him or not and he probably thought I was joking.  I really wasn't joking.  I needed those stairs.  I really didn't think my body would let me enter the elevator again. 

     The time passed to quickly and we had to enter the elevator.  I found my position against the wall snuggling up against the bar that wrapped around the elevator.  I knew if the elevator were to fall nothing, not even the bar, was going to save me yet grabbing it gave me a sense of control.  Like normal students they had their fun jumping up and down as we descended towards the bottom.  I scrunched down towards the bottom of the elevator murmuring under my breath, "Please, God, Please, God. Please, God!"  Finally we were at ground level and the doors opened.  I was so happy to be out of there. 

     About two years later my husband and I took a trip to Chicago with our infant son.  Brian wanted to go up the Sears Tower.  I didn't think I could do it again but I told myself I am a mom and I need to find the strength to go up to the top with my husband and son.  It took every ounce of prayer to get me to the top but we did it.  I was numb from doing it and my husband realized how much of a fear I have with elevators.  We went back just after the birth of our third child in 2000.  Brian wanted to go back up the tower but I physically couldn't handle doing that again.  The fearless mommy superpower that I thought all mother obtained somehow passed me by.  I was able to do it with my first born but as I got older I think the fear grew more inside of me and I could not do it. 

     One time my mother treated her children and in-laws out to a fancy restaurant in Grand Rapids.  I am not exactly sure where we were at but we took one elevator upwards to view the lights of Grand Rapids.  I was a little nervous going up high but I knew it wasn't like the Sears Tower.  Going down we took a different set of elevators.  This elevator had glass on the outside so you could fully see outside.  I totally freaked out demanding that the elevator stopped and that I needed to get off.  My family never knew this fear in me before and was totally shocked by my behavior, especially sense I was a grown woman.  I apologized for my behavior when we reached the bottom as I didn't even expect to react the way that I did.  It just happened.  I had no control over the fear I was facing. 

     Last year when my mother-in-law passed away she was up on the seventh floor of the hospital.  My husband asked me if I was able to handle it or if I would rather take the stairs.  I wanted to take the stairs but time was our enemy and we had to reach the seventh floor quickly.  I entered the elevator and took a deep breath.  My husband would try to crack a joke to help calm me down and relax me.  Mentally I would try to displace where I was at and not think about the elevator cables breaking and the elevator falling to the bottom.  Maybe it was the realization that I was in a hospital and if anything were to happen to the elevator that would probably be the best place for it to happen especially with medical staff being right there. 

     Elevator accidents do happen.  The Census of Fatal Occupational Injuries reports about 20 deaths per year related to elevators.  Most deaths that do occur are mostly due to maintenance workers working on the elevators or careless reckless errors due to elevator riders. 
The link below recaps 10 terrible elevator accidents.  Perhaps after reading some you may find yourself suffering a bit from sursumdeorsumphobia.
http://listverse.com/2011/12/23/10-tragic-elevator-accidents/
     

Scared Stiff - Literally!

     It was a warm summer night.  I think I was around 9 years old, give or take a year.  We lived in Saginw Township on a busy street.  My mom was out on a date, my brother was at a friend's house for the night so my older sister had to babysit me.  There is a seven year age difference between us.  At my age I was normally the pesky little brat and she was the annoying teenage sister.  There were times we bickered but there were times we enjoyed being sisters.  This was a moment that we were enjoying our sisterhood.

     My sister Lisa and I were watching the horror movie Friday the 13th on TV.  It was one we had seen before.  I don't recall which Friday the 13th movie we were watching but we were curled up on the couch liking the movie.  There was a window next to the tv that was open to let the night air in.  The couch was across the room from that window.  At one killing scene I heard a strange sound coming from the window in a light whisper, "Jason, Jason, Jason....ah, ah, ah, ahhhh.."  Without moving my head I glanced my eyes over to the window.  I didn't see anything.  Just blackness.  Maybe I am just hearing things,  I thought and continued watching the movie.  Then a moment later the same sound was coming from the window.  "Jason, Jason, Jason...ah, ah, ah, ahhh..."   It was odd because I always thought the sound when Jason Voorheis was about to strike was, "ch, ch, ch, ch.   Ah, ah, ah, ahhh.".  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my sister turned her head towards the window.  Oh my gosh!  She heard something too!

     "Why don't you go shut and lock the front door."  Lisa said casually.  The main door was located behind the wall that the tv was on just in another room.  We could not see the front door from where we were sitting.  The wooden door was open leaving just a metal screen door to protect us from what is outside.

     My eyes popped out of my head.  "NO!  You go shut and lock the door!  You are older!"  I snapped back.

     "But you need to mind and I told YOU to do something!"  she piped back. 

     As we continued our arguing the screen door started opening and closing really fast.  We knew someone was there at the door.  Fear like I had never experienced flooded over my body.  My sister stands up abruptly and hollars, "QUICK!  FOLLOW ME!" and she dashes to the left to my brothers bedroom door(which was next to the couch), through his bedroom and out the other door in his room (which led to the kitchen) and out the kitchen back door to the outside.  She achieved freedom. 

     I think we both stood up at the same time but my brain lost all communication to my muscles.  They didn't want to move.  I had no feeling, at all, in my entire body.  I looked over and my sister was gone.  GONE!  SHE LEFT ME ALONE TO FACE THIS TERROR ENTERING OUR HOME!  I couldn't follow.  I couldn't move.  All I could do was think. Run to the bathroom, I would say to myself, No!  Then I would have to run past the door and whoever was breaking in would see me.  Our bathroom had the only interior door that locked.  A sure safety but too risky.  Hide underneath the computer table!  No!  To obvious.  Hide behind the tv.  No!  He would see me for sure.  Hide behind the curtain.  No!  It would puff out to where I was standing.  Nothing I could think of would be a safe hiding place.  Even if I could think of a safe place to hide I don't think my legs would be able to take me there.  Oh how I wished I was able to move and dash out the back like my sister did.

     I looked down at the coffee table and there was a glass cermanic gray elephant.  It was poised with the trunk curled up around to the top of the head, mouth open and one leg up in a prance.  Somehow, for a brief moment, my brain had a small communication with my upper half of my body and  I was able to reach down and grab this elephant by his trunk and raise it above my head.  I still could not move my lower half of my body.  This ceramic gray elephant was going to save me from whatever was behind the door trying to make its way inside to kill me.  I envisioned myself using this elephant to beat this person over and over until they were knocked out or dead. 

     The door stopped opening and closing.  I held my breath not knowing what to expect next.  My fingers tightened around the ceramic trunk of the elephant preparing myself to use it violently.  I closed my eyes for a moment.  All was silent.  An eerie silent.  I was as still as the statue I was holding.  It felt like an eternity had passed.  I strained hard to open my eyes.  I seen some movement.  Then my brain registered what I was seeing.  Shoes!  Shoes were being kicked off.  I looked harder.  I know those shoes.  Then a familar face appears from around the corner.  MATT!  It was my sister's boyfriend.  He looked over at me with a huge grin on his face amused that I was standing there with a ceramic elephant held high above my head. 

     Looking around he asks, "Where's your sister?"
 
     "She ran out the back." 

     He laughs and starts to put his shoes back on.  "Play along." he says and gives a wink. 

     Finally, my brain starts the communication process up with all my muscles and I was able to move again.  It was such a great feeling to be able to move and knowing that I was not about to be a worm's meal.  But now I was on the other side of the playing field, against my sister, who left me to die.  It was my turn to help her get scared.  I roamed around the house yelling out the dark windows, "Lisa!  I'm scared!  Help me!"  I would shout out while roaming around the house.

     A familar voice from the outside answered, "Go to our bedroom and open the window so I can climb back inside."

     I dashed to our bedroom, unlocked the latch and popped out the screen.  We gently placed our desk chair out the window so she can use that to step up and into the window.  She finally makes her way in the bedroom and hugs me tightly.  I remember thinking, she is probably sooo lucky I am not dead she knows mom would seriously go psycho on you if I were!

     Suddenly there was a slam at the back door.  This time she grabs my hand to make sure I stay with her and we go steadly towards the back door.  Knowing that I know it was Matt I was able to move along and play the part.  We proceed cautiously and carefully.  We pass through the kitchen, pass my brother's door, to the back door.  Lisa turns on the garage light, locks the door, and looks around through the glass in the door.  While we were busy looking to see if we can see anything in the garage Matt jumps out from our brother's bedroom and gives a loud roar.  Lisa jumps practically out of her skin and falls to the floor hysterically crying.  I jump sideways against the wall scrapping my back on the lightswitch.  Laughter came from my lips. 

     Over 25 years have passed but we still look back at this moment and remember the fear and laughter that came with it.  It may have not been our best sister/sister moment but it was a moment we shared and now laugh together.

Fudge, Fun and Nuptials

Our bikes up at Mackinac Island.

     It was the summer of 1995.  Brian and I have been dating for only a few weeks.  One day out of the blue he decided to go purchase some bikes for him and I and spend the day at Mackinac Island.  We went to K-Mart in Plainwell and picked out a nice pair of matching bikes.  We rode them out of the store and all around the parking lot.  I loved gliding along at top speed feeling the wind against my face.  The bike rode smoothly like floating on a cloud.  It was late in the day so we decided to head out first thing in the morning. 

     It was several years since I had been to Mackinac Island.  Motor cars are not allowed on the island that is just under 4 square miles and it gives the appeal of stepping back in time to an era of long ago.  We decided to cross the Mackinac Bridge to take the ferry from St. Ignace in the UP over to the island.  I never realized how big the bridge looked before.  The closer we got the more my heart started pounding and the harder it was to breathe. Soon were driving up the 5 mile long bridge.  I couldn't move.  I could barely talk.  I sat there staring at the floor of the Bronco refusing to look out.  In the meantime, Brian was jabbering away about the view and ships he sees off in the distance.  It made me uneasy.  I begged for him to stop talking.  I needed absolute quiet.  An odd vibration rumbled across the Bronco.  I could tell we were on the grated part of the bridge near the middle, which is also the highest part.  I took a long deep breath.  I gripped the door handle very tightly.  I was singing songs in my head trying hard not to think about being 199 feet above Lake Huron and Lake Michigan.  Deep in the back parts of my brain the story of how a car was blown over the edge of the Mackinac Bridge and the person died played over and over.  My mental singing couldn't keep the thought of that away.  Brian was realizing that this wasn't just a small fear but more of a terror I have.  A few times he would tease me telling me we were off the bridge only to open my eyes and look up and see a huge pillar passing by me.  My heart beats faster and I pray hard for those miles to pass by quickly.  Finally we reach the upper peninsula and I was able to breath again and my heart returned to its normal beat.  I never had a fear come upon me like that before while crossing the bridge and I didn't like the feeling.  I knew I would have to cross it again but I didn't want to think about that so soon.

     We had a great time on the island.  We biked around it stopping at various sights like The Grand Hotel, Arch Rock, battlefield sites from the war of 1812 and a tree from a scene from the movie Somewhere in Time startting Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymore.  We sat upon some rocks on the southwest side of the island near the water's edge and enjoyed the Michigan landscape across the waters.  Brian is fiddling around with my camera but I didn't think too much about it.  He holds it up and says, "Hey Jill," I look at him, "Will you marry me?" click goes the sound of the camera. 

My reaction the moment Brian asked me to be his wife.

    

     I was shocked.  I was not expecting that very important, life changing question at all.  We never even hinted around to it.  We have only been dating probably 2 months at best.  I wanted to say yes but I didn't want to seem too eager.  I wanted to see how long he would go before he would beg for an answer.  I looked at him, smiled, and replied, "I will have to think about it and get back to you with an answer." 

This was taken after I told Brian I would think about his marriage proposal.

     He tried to persuade me to answer but I was firm in having him wait.  Brian finally realized that he wasn't going to get an answer right away like he hoped and we changed subjects.  Deep inside my heart was fluttering and I was screaming with delight, YES! YES! YES! but I was 18, an adult, and had to hold my composure.   Then I began to plot on how long I would make him wait and in what special way would I let Brian know that my answer would be yes.  There was some strange sinful pleasure in my knowledge of the answer to the marriage proposal and him not knowing yet.  It was like I was in control and he was at my mercy. 

     It was getting late and we started to make our way towards home.  We had to cross over the Mackinac Bridge again.  I couldn't do it.  My heart was leaping out of my chest.  I kept telling myself that I had to cross it.  I live in the lower peninsula and can't stay up there.  I can do this.  I can do this, I would tell myself over and over.  We paid our toll and started making our way south over the bridge.  I looked over at the suspension wires and I fell apart inside.  Staring at the floor boards were not enough.  I couldn't feel safe.  If being blown over the bridge is there a safe spot to be in a vehicle?  I wondered.  I unbuckled and curled myself up in a little ball at the bottom of the Bronco.  Brian kept trying to tell me what a beautiful view I was missing and to give it a chance.  I started crying and begging for him to stop talking.  I just wanted silence so I can concentrate on calming myself down. 

     I can feel the Bronco start to slow down.  Why is he slowing down?  Is there an accident?  Are we about to go over the edge?  Did part of the bridge collaspe?  With my eyes still closed and me still curled up on the floor of the Bronco I heard Brian's voice, "Tell me you will marry me?"

     "WHAT!  GET ME OFF THIS BRIDGE NOW!" I pleaded! 

     

     "Nope.  Not until you say that you will be my wife."  He said calmly. 

     "I AM NOT GIVING YOU AN ANSWER!  HURRY UP AND DRIVE FASTER!" I begged.

Between the two pillars of the Mackinaw Bridge Brian slowed down
and demanded an answer to his marriage proposal. 

     He slows his driving to a slow crawl and taunts me with being up near the top.  "You can see everything from up here.  Look, there is a freighter off in the distance.  I am not going to move until you say yes."  Brian says proudly knowing he has the best of me at this moment.

     I knew I was defeated.  With not being of sound mind I shouted, "YES!  FINE!  I WILL MARRY YOU!  JUST GET ME OFF THIS BRIDGE NOW!!!! 

     "What was that you said?  I want to make sure I heard you correctly." he teased back.

     "YES!  NOW GET ME OFF OF THE BRIDGE!" I hollared back from the floor of the Bronco.

     I felt the Bronco speed up.  My heart is thumping wildly but I couldn't tell if it was fear from the bridge or agreeing to the marriage proposal.  Maybe it was a little of both.  Looking back now it is still hard to tell which got my heart thumping more.  I plugged my ears and kept my eyes tightly shut so I can fully concentrate on not being on the bridge.  After a while I felt Brian pull the Bronco over to the side.  He gently pats my back to tells me to step outside.  I slowly slide my body up into my seat to see if we were off the bridge.  We were.  We were safely on the side of the highway on the lower peninsular side.  Brian already rushed around to my side of the Bronco and already had the door open.  I fall out like a wet noodle so exhausted from horror of crossing over the bridge.  "Did you really mean it when you said yes?" Brian asked.

     "Yes, I did.  I will marry you."  I replied back.  It wasn't the way I imagined that I would say yes to his proposal but I was off the bridge.     

     Brian pulled me close to him and gave me a huge romantic kiss and a great big hug right on the side of the highway.  Cars were zooming past watching us embrace but we didn't care.  At that moment we made the decision to spend the rest of our lives together. 

     17 years has passed by and I don't regret the answer I had given in haste.  We have gone across the bridge a few times since then and I try to open my eyes to take a look if even only for a second.  One of my greatest fears (bridges) also gives me one of my greatest memories to cherish and that is to become a wife to the man I love.   

Brian and I standing in front of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island
the day he proposed to me.