Jun 06 2008
Autism : Fearless of heights
No Fear..
My sisters and I were climbing a tree when I was about seven years old.
We had propped a tire up against it so we could reach the lowest branch. I was first up as I had mastered the art of climbing at this point.
I precariously made my up as my sisters followed behind me.
It was a large oak tree, many years old and well established with many large sturdy branches.
I do remember this day clearly and can see myself there reaching for each limb as I flee for higher ground, unaware of any danger.
When I reached as far as I could go, I can remember swaying in the wind as a slight breeze blew by and how excited I was to have reached the top.
About this time, my mother came out to check on us. Seeing me blowing in the breeze, grasping onto mere twigs she panics.
Desperate, she yells for us all to get out of the tree.
I do not ignore her; however, my response is delayed by my sheer delight in my newfound recreation. At her consistent urging, I finally begin my way back.
Bounding down faster than I had climbed up, I remember her telling me to be careful.
When I finally make the trunk of the tree and am about to climb town to the enabling tire, I decide to jump backwards out of the tree. This would tear the ligaments in my left foot and reaffirm my mother’s fears of me climbing.
Ouch!
My son is also a climber, but I have come to grips with it. He’s got great balance and is usually careful. I still cringe, but I try not to panic. I still keep him away from cliffs and mountains though, just in case he ever decideds it would be an interesting idea to jump.
I never really wanted to jump any further than of the top bunk, thank goodness. But my climbing got me into a quite a bit of predicaments.
From baseball field backstops where I wanted to climb over and got stuck at the top. Good thing for big sisters.
To fences and an untold amount of splinters. For some reason I had a shoe adversion and would take them off at the first opportunity. My mom pent more time pulling them out of my feet then she did my hands.
Also, there were more than the usual bumps, bruises and scrapes.
It is what I did when my mother was not looking that would have scared her the most. Probably a good thing I never fell far.