That gave me some time to decide whether I could face my fear of heights. I decided to get enough tickets so that I could go up with everyone else, should I really decide to go. I believe in open options when possible.
Eventually we did go up, myself included. No, I did not end up sobbing on the stairwell while waiting for the tram.
Thank goodness because it occurred to me later that Richard was the one who kept me from climbing down the stairwell, which is off-limits to visitors.
During that panic attack I very much wanted OUT. now. by any means. forget the rules. let me GO. Of course, I said all that and perhaps a few other things between sobs and snot and sick feelings that I was going to fall to my death.
That the arch is completely enclosed made no difference. Logic and reality are not part of the solution. They aren't even part of the problem. So don't try to talk logically to a panic attack. Panic attacks don't listen; they are tornadoes of action and reaction until they finally spin themselves out. Logic, indeed. Throw logic at a tornado and see what happens!
This time Richard chose to watch the air show, leaving me to my own devices. No panic attack for me or anyone who happened to be at the top with me. Can you imagine being that lucky person? See, you just never know what kind of kooks are standing right beside you.
So, how did I avoid the breakdown? I'd love to say I just maintained control and kept myself busy snapping pictures and chatting. The truth is, though, I haven't a clue. There was some arch movement and I felt a twinge of vertigo, but it just didn't happen.
Of course, that means I'm capable of complete and total tornado meltdown (snotty sobs, clawing, gnashing of teeth and dragon-like hissing) anytime I find myself vulnerably high off the ground.
So be warned, if you ever see this
She's capable of some pretty ugly whirlwinds and cannot be trusted with high society. Well, you know, that being society up high, off the ground and in the path of high winds.