On Falling Down the Stairs

pho·bi·a /ˈfoʊbiə/
–noun a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it.

I have an irrational fear of falling. Off cliffs, off curbs and especially down the stairs. I have spent years in the corporate world going UP the stairs and DOWN in the elevator if I had to go down more than one flight - only to be subjected to raised eyebrows, snickers and exclamations of "Seriously?!"

Yes. Seriously. My phobia of falling down the stairs is so bad that if there is an elevator, I'd rather take the elevator - and I HATE ELEVATORS.

Now that we have stairs in The New (to us) House, I have to go up and down them several times a day. There is not a single time that I go down the stairs without picturing myself falling and ending up in a tangled heap at the bottom. It is so bad (and our house stairs are so narrow) that I won't wear shoes down the stairs, so there is often a random assortment of shoes, flip flops and slippers at the top of the stairs. (Clearly I am not afraid of breaking my neck before I even get to the stairs.)

It is even worse when I am carrying Woodstock down the stairs. I envision both of us at the bottom in a complex tangle of elbows, knees and necks bent at the wrong angles. With me on top, of course. Phobias are all about the worst possible scenario.

Either it is a self-fulfilling prophesy or I have good reason to be afraid, because this morning, while Himself was bathing Woodstock, I fell down the last half of the staircase.

I landed flat on my back at the bottom with a "WHOOMPH!" Himself asked what had happened, but I had no wind left in me. He couldn't actually see what happened or make sure my neck wasn't broken, as Woodstock was still in the tub. And, in the triage of broken neck v. drowning baby (or, more likely, one who will try to climb out of the tub), the broken neck came in second.

My left rear side hurts like ___________ (enter your own 4-letter word here). My back hurts. My pride hurts.

Worst of all, the little voice in my head is yelling, "TOLD YOU SO! You should not go down the stairs."