Frightened, Fearful And Flat-Out Scared

A few days ago, my group of friends and I took a trip to an amusement park. Of course, not everyone could come but that’s what happens when everything gets organised last minute. The group kept changing their minds about where we were going, but anyways, that’s besides the point. We all drove separately, some driving with others or some taking public transport. Once we all got there, we bought our passes and headed off to enjoy the day on the rides.

As the day continued, and we narrowed down the list of rides we had been on, we had reached the inevitable:

The Hair Raiser.

Before I continue, let me just say something: I hate heights. They are one of my biggest fears, so when it came for us to go on this ride, you could say I was more than reluctant. I decided to pass on it the first time they rode it, figuring I could buy myself some time before having to ride it, or hopefully skip it all together.

If you didn’t know, The ‘Hair Raiser’ is a ride basically like the giant drop, in which it carries you up really high and then stops at the top, before dropping the participants however many feet. It gave me chills just thinking about it. I did not want to go on it. Impossible. I was not going to risk my life on this ride. There was absolutely no way. But as I saw the countless amounts of children younger than me hopping on this ride, and as the prolonged encouragement from my friends continued, I had a feeling. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt before. A feeling to face myself with a fear and overcome it. I don’t know what had gone over me in that moment, but as I strapped into the seat and awaited the start, I realised there was no going back. I tried to calm myself down, repeating these words in my head: It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay…

I could hear my heart pulsating through my chest and I’m sure my friends could hear it too. B, T and the rest of my friends were reassuring me it was going to be okay, and all I could do was just agree with them and hope for the best.

Then the ride started.

As it slowly travelled up and up, the anticipation made me anxious. I kept my eyes shut as tightly as they could, freaking out internally. I had no idea how high up we were now. I could hear B ask me if I was okay. I replied just a simple ‘yes.’ trying to keep my mind focused. I didn’t want to be distracted and regret going on this ride. Wondering how long until it was going to drop and also being the stupid person I am, I decided to take a peek at how far up we were. Oh, what a horrible mistake. As I glanced forward, I could see the entire city shown before my eyes. This was it. I was going to die. I was not going to live to see another day. I quickly shut my eyes again, embracing for death. The ride slowly came to a halt, and my mind started imagining things. I pictured myself falling 30-feet to the ground. I tried to shake the image out of my head but before I knew it we started to drop. The exhilaration filled my stomach, screaming from the top of my lungs, as we plummeted to the ground. The thrill was exciting. All the thoughts I once had seemed to disappear each moment we dropped. I was going to be fine. I couldn’t contain my emotions as the ride ended, I felt relief. I had successfully faced a fear that I never thought I would’ve. I don’t know why I suddenly decided to do it, but I’m thankful I did. If I hadn’t maybe I’d be sitting here second-guessing myself on why I didn’t join my friends and face my affliction. Not only did I conquer it, I ended up riding the ride three times.

As always,

That Guy Daily.

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