Fear #42: Claustrophobia With Courtney.

claus·tro·pho·bi·a

ˌklôstrəˈfōbēə/

noun

noun: claustrophobia

1. extreme or irrational fear of confined places.

1. 
   If there is any fear that seems to define me, it is this one. 
   Claustrophobia. 
   Such an irrational fear; but to me, it's just as real as any other. When I am in a confined space, I tend to shut down. I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't act. Looking back on my little "panic attacks", it's actually quite funny… But claustrophobia has controlled me for far too long. This fear must be broken down.
   I am a pretty independent person, and I usually pride myself in this regard. However, there comes a time in life when you must fully allow yourself to be in "confined" places. Literally and figuratively. I believe that true growth involves surrendering yourself completely to the life that breathes around you. 
   So, you ask, how does a Friday night outing relate to my self-diagnosis of claustrophobia? Let me paint the picture...
   Velour. A 600 square-foot venue full of hundreds of hovering hipsters breathing down your neck, sweaty and swaying and singing to the music… And where was I in the midst of this? Right in the middle of the crowd, underneath the disco ball, soaking it all in. 
   I didn't start out there, and to be honest, I didn't think that's where I would end up. But with the help of a boy and a few friends, I found myself subconsciously conquering my fear of confined places. Harper was working the merchandise table for the National Parks (yeah, he's cool and knows the band), and he urged me to make my way through the crowd to watch the show. Luckily, my friends saved me a spot…in the middle of the crowd…surrounded by hundreds of heavy-breathing, wild-dancing, fist-pumping fans. 
   I could have passed out. I could have faked a phone call. I could have paced around to catch my breath. But in all honesty, I was hardly affected at all by any "symptoms" of a claustrophobic "panic attack". As a matter of fact, claustrophobia did not even cross my mind, as it usually does, for the entire night. It didn't occur to me that this would be my fear for the week until after I left the concert. But at any other time, in any other crowd, in any other circumstance, I most likely would have gone insane. What?

Am I changing? Can I finally allow myself to be close to someone? How did this happen…

Slowly but surely, I have discovered that vulnerability is my ultimate weakness. But vulnerability is a funny thing: while seeming to destroy us from the inside-out, it actually saves us from the outside-in. We, as humans, are constantly putting on a front to seem as perfect as possible (for this, I blame society). The fear of exposing ourselves is detrimental to who we may become, because through this process we also withhold our full potential. But rather than fearing exposure, we must embrace it. We cannot let vulnerability overcome us - we must use it to our advantage to connect with others, to share our lives, and to admit that we are only human. 

We are all only human. We all have our own "claustrophobic moments": times when we refuse to leave our comfort zone. But forcing ourselves into the uncomfortable, confined spaces of life is what brings out our best: what is real. We are only human, after all, and we cannot go through life without brushing each others' shoulders. 

So far, over the course of this fear project, my entire mindset has been changed. I believe I am growing. So many things have happened that I never thought were possible in such a short time, and it's been quite the ride. To whomever may be reading this, thank you for allowing me to be open, honest, and vulnerable….and quite frankly, scared to death.

Until next week….

-Courtney