I'd Really Like To Get Down Now Please

In all of my musings about Camp McDowell,I can’t believe that I forgot to mention the most perilous part of the entireweekend – the high dive. (It’s interesting to me that I wrote about both myterrible swimming lessons and CampMcDowell last week, but completelyforgot to mention it. Subconsciously, it must have been floating around upthere somewhere, but I guess I never put it together.)

We covered that I’m not the greatest swimmer. (I do love the water though, I’m just more of a lazyriver/"let’s float this one out with a cocktail" kind of gal.) Well, I also happen to have alittle trouble with heights. I think it began when I broke both of my armsfalling out of a tree house, but with the anxiety in this brain of mine, it’sentirely possible the phobia would have come about regardless.  

(Technically speaking, I think I have what is known asobsessive bad thoughts rather than a phobia. I can be in high spaces – I didn’tmiss out on the top of the Hancock building when I spent the summer in Chicago,but all I think about when I’m too far off the ground is falling. It’s prettymuch the only notion/image that runs through my head once I’m more than 10 feetoff the ground. Once I saw Clueless, even the third floor of the mall couldmake me a little sick to my stomach. Am I the only person in Americatraumatized by Clueless for reasons other than the fact that Alecia Silverstone’slove interest ends up being her former step-brother? Probably.)

But, you know, I’ve done a lot of work to understand myselfbetter in the past few months. I turned 30. I have a prescription for Xanax.Surely, I thought, I can handle the high dive now.

Only a few minutes after the SO and I arrived at the pool, Iheaded straight for the high dive. (That’s right, I didn’t even warm up withthe lower diving board. I wanted to be bold, so I decided to climb right onup.) I’d watched my 11-year old and 7-year old cousins go off again and again-- surely this would be fine.

The ladder itself was not a problem. I went up those rungs likeit was my job. It was the diving board at the top of those stairs that posed aproblem.

Were you aware that those things are wobbly? I know this is forpeople who actually want to jump off the diving board and gain even more heightbefore diving gracefully into the water, but once I was atop the diving boardand actually had to look down, wobbly is not something I was interested in.

I took a few steps forward, and then I took a few steps back.

“You can do it LaLa,” my adorable 11-year old cousin yelledfrom the bottom of the stairs. (I think she was anxious to take another turn.)She is a gem and my heart, so don’t question how much I love her despite whatis about to occur in the rest of this re-telling.

I took another few steps forward and froze again.

“You’ll do great honey,” the SO yelled from the shallow end.“Just like Greg Louganis.”

If I had been closer, I would have taken the Super Soaker tohim for that one.

“I’m not so sure about this,” I said, my knees beginning to goa little weak, and I stepped backwards on the board again.

“Jump LaLa!” More cousins had joined in. The young people’s excitement was tangible. Itjust wasn’t quite contagious.

“I think I might need to come down instead,” I said. “Your bigcousin isn’t as brave as she thought she was.”

“Uh-uh,” my cousin said. “There’s no coming down.” I lookeddown to see that a line had formed at the base of the ladder with more than oneof my tween-aged cousins gathered at the bottom of the steps to prevent mefrom  getting down. Plus, they’re Mills,and you should never try to out-stubborn a Mills. Even though I am one, I knewI’d at least need back-up. They were three or four deep down there. You mightbe thinking, “oh, but they’re just children.” If you are, I’ll just let youtake them on yourselves. It can be quite a pack.

I tried to go towards the end of the board again. “Now, kids …”I began, thinking I might pull the sympathy card instead. I was even preparedto offer silly bands or Miley Cyrus mementos for a reprieve.

“If you don’t go off that board, I’m going to climb up there andbounce on the end until you jump,” my cousin said.

And with that terrifying image in my head, I ran off the end ofthe board into the water. Was it a dive? Of course not. Was it graceful? Not atall. Was it even an attempt at a jump you might recognize like the cannonballor can opener? No. All I wanted right then was to get off the board, and I knewthe only way to do it was to move before I could think much more and shut myeyes tight. (If you’re curious, yes, this is how I get through a lot in life –getting on an airplane, climbing into the dentist’s chair and having my fingerpricked included.) 

So, in the end, you could kind of say that I overcame one of myfears to do something  unexpected. Or, Icould admit the truth – that it turns out my fear of tween-agers is far greaterthan my fear of heights.

Lord help me if I ever find myself in the vicinity of a Justin Bieber concert.