Tomorrow, I may or may not face fears. Right now, my stomach is in knots.
I think I’ve mentioned my fear of rollercoasters before. It’s bad.
I was afraid as a kid, and as a teen while my friends screamed on rides, I held their bags. I hadn’t been to an amusement park in years before I came here. D’s work throws a party at this place once a year. The past two Octobers I’ve gone to the park with him, trying to enjoy the mandatory fun day.
The first year, I thought I’d be fine. I thought perhaps I had outgrown the fear. I decided when we got to the park, I would ride the worst ride first, to get it over with. Once I endured that, I thought I’d be fine.
insert insane giggle here
I was not fine. I waited in line, but when it was my turn to board, I froze and freaked the fuck out. I did end up riding a couple of rides that day, though they all ended in tears, and the excited utterance “I hate you!”. I even went through the haunted house thingy since the park was decked out for Halloween. Last year, I chickened out and didn’t do any of that. I was no fun and felt bad that I was disappointing him.
I make no promises for this year. This time we’re attending in the summer, so the water park is open. You know, so I can combine my fear of death by rides with my terror in water! Oh, and don’t forget that it’s going to be sunny and ninety something and I’m paler than a vampire. Good times for everyone!
I was debating booze or sedatives in reality. Just to take the edge off, so that maybe I could try to pull a few rides off without a full-blown anxiety attack. I know he won’t expect me to get on the rides, and he would never ask me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Still, I feel bad because I want him to have fun, and I know he’d like to ride all sorts of things.
How I wish my sense of fearlessness and adventure for certain things could work in this situation.