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I decided to go on an excursion yesterday. Several people went, and it was organized by a guy who specializes in such things. We went hiking in a protected nature area.
Well. It turns out that this nature area has lots of high rocks, with equally high stairs carved into them. I am afraid of heights. I managed to get through one area simply because, once up, there was no choice but to continue down another staircase, then up a third.
I told everyone that I would hike with them to another rock formation, but if there was a high staircase there, I would just turn around and walk back to the meeting point. It was simple, or so I thought.
We got to the high rocks, and sure enough, the staircase was STEEP. I said that I couldn't climb it, and that I would meet everyone back at the meeting point. You know, the same thing I had clearly said earlier.
Well. Our guide didn't want to hear that. It would take a long time to walk back there, he said. It was just one more staircase, he said. He would go with me all the way up, he said.
He just kept working on me and working on me. Finally, I went up, hanging on to him the whole way, with another member of the group generously taking my backpack (which was heavy). I was terrified the whole way.
We got up, we walked around, I took photos of the scenery, and we walked the length of the rocks.
Oh, and guess what?
The only way out was down the steepest fucking staircase imaginable.
I had to go down on my butt (not the first time I'd had to do that during the day). I kept thinking that I couldn't panic, because if I did, I could easily die. And if I didn't die, I could be badly injured, possibly permanently disabled.
I got down. I got my backpack from the person who carried it. I walked back to the van. I saw our guide standing around the meeting point, and he began to walk towards me. I kept on going without looking at him.
Later, he approached me (when I was alone) and tried to compliment me into dropping my justified rage against him. I pointed out that I could have died up there. I pointed out that he told me there was only one more staircase.
So he did the same bullshit that manipulators do - he used that soft voice, he told me that earlier, he suggested that I stay at the meeting point rather than walking as far as the rocks, he said that the staircase I climbed was the last flight up. Because that's oh so important, right?
I'm still traumatized and pissed off - no, furious - at what he put me through. And for nothing. We weren't in an area where I had to climb the stairs in order to get back to the meeting point. I could have simply walked back, but he kept pushing and refusing to take no for an answer.
If someone's claustrophobic, you don't lock them in a closet for a few hours, then open the door and congratulate them for still being alive. If someone's afraid of the water, you don't throw them in and tell them that they're perfectly safe. And if someone's afraid of heights, YOU DON'T PUSH THEM TO CLIMB A HIGH FUCKING STAIRCASE.
These are all things I wish I had told that motherfucker yesterday. The knowledge that I could have died didn't faze him in the least. He put my life at risk, my safety at risk, and my mental health at risk. And now, I have to deal with the fallout, while he goes his merry way.
Well. It turns out that this nature area has lots of high rocks, with equally high stairs carved into them. I am afraid of heights. I managed to get through one area simply because, once up, there was no choice but to continue down another staircase, then up a third.
I told everyone that I would hike with them to another rock formation, but if there was a high staircase there, I would just turn around and walk back to the meeting point. It was simple, or so I thought.
We got to the high rocks, and sure enough, the staircase was STEEP. I said that I couldn't climb it, and that I would meet everyone back at the meeting point. You know, the same thing I had clearly said earlier.
Well. Our guide didn't want to hear that. It would take a long time to walk back there, he said. It was just one more staircase, he said. He would go with me all the way up, he said.
He just kept working on me and working on me. Finally, I went up, hanging on to him the whole way, with another member of the group generously taking my backpack (which was heavy). I was terrified the whole way.
We got up, we walked around, I took photos of the scenery, and we walked the length of the rocks.
Oh, and guess what?
The only way out was down the steepest fucking staircase imaginable.
I had to go down on my butt (not the first time I'd had to do that during the day). I kept thinking that I couldn't panic, because if I did, I could easily die. And if I didn't die, I could be badly injured, possibly permanently disabled.
I got down. I got my backpack from the person who carried it. I walked back to the van. I saw our guide standing around the meeting point, and he began to walk towards me. I kept on going without looking at him.
Later, he approached me (when I was alone) and tried to compliment me into dropping my justified rage against him. I pointed out that I could have died up there. I pointed out that he told me there was only one more staircase.
So he did the same bullshit that manipulators do - he used that soft voice, he told me that earlier, he suggested that I stay at the meeting point rather than walking as far as the rocks, he said that the staircase I climbed was the last flight up. Because that's oh so important, right?
I'm still traumatized and pissed off - no, furious - at what he put me through. And for nothing. We weren't in an area where I had to climb the stairs in order to get back to the meeting point. I could have simply walked back, but he kept pushing and refusing to take no for an answer.
If someone's claustrophobic, you don't lock them in a closet for a few hours, then open the door and congratulate them for still being alive. If someone's afraid of the water, you don't throw them in and tell them that they're perfectly safe. And if someone's afraid of heights, YOU DON'T PUSH THEM TO CLIMB A HIGH FUCKING STAIRCASE.
These are all things I wish I had told that motherfucker yesterday. The knowledge that I could have died didn't faze him in the least. He put my life at risk, my safety at risk, and my mental health at risk. And now, I have to deal with the fallout, while he goes his merry way.
I took this particular unit because I was leaving my then-late mother's house and was running out of time ... finding an apartment in this city is an unbelievable PITA. I like the unit well enough, but ... not much point in having a balcony if you can't use it. 
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