Everyone has their own Achilles’ heel – the thing that sends dread seeping through their pores. That one thing that takes hold of their breath, brings them to their knees and gets their hearts racing like a runaway freight train. There often isn’t any rhyme or reason to it. It just is. And, it’s terrible.
My Achilles’ heel – the one I spent most of my life, including years of therapy, trying to conquer – is my fear of elevators. There is no scientific name for it. However, that doesn’t make it any less real. Many describe it as a combination of acrophobia (fear of heights) and claustrophobia (fear of closed spaces). I don’t care how science defines it. I call it terror. read more >>