* Note: This article was first published and edited in mumag.org
One of the difficult parts of battling anxiety is dealing with the little phobias that develop. They are the uninvited guests. You never see them coming. They appear most unexpectedly. Those strange fears start like a little snowball coming down the hill but quickly develop into a monster phobia that becomes a menace to all the progress you have made or, sometimes, becomes so powerful that it seems like it will crush you.
One day I had a massive panic attack driving over a bridge, one that involved paramedics, sirens and my terrified 7 year old girl in the back of my minivan. At the end I recovered, managed to pick up my other kid and went home to have some rest. Little did I know this was the beginning of one of the most strange phobias my anxiety monster has brought along. That’s how I welcomed Gephyrophobia into my life.
Gephyrophobia is characterized by the fear of bridges. Sufferers of gephyrophobia may avoid routes that will take them over bridges. The problem for me was that living in Jacksonville, Florida, this is the worse phobia you could get. There is no way you can avoid bridges in this city that is surrounded by chunks of water.
Many times crying behind the wheel, I lost the count of how often I had to stop before a bridge on the side of the rode trying to find the courage to get over it. I tried to avoid certain roads, in particular to avoid that single bridge, but I couldn’t. I had to cross it almost everyday because it was the only way of getting my kids to and from school. I started to get scared of driving. Some days it was unbearable, and also difficult to talk about it. People don’t seem to understand anxiety, let alone that I was terrified of bridges.
Embarrassed and alone, I wasn’t ready to let ‘Triggerion’ (my anxiety monster) and his new friend ‘Gephyrophobia’ win.
A friend suggested that since I love fairy tales, maybe I should try to imagine that across the bridge I would find a fantastic realm to conquer. I thought of myself being both the princess locked in the tower, and the prince that had to slay the dragon. I tried singing, talking on the phone, and screaming as side techniques. And little by little the snowball began to melt. But it was the fantasy analogy that helped me the most. So every time I cross a bridge, is a new realm conquered. Is a step of progress and repetition, an opportunity to tell myself I can conquer my fears, and it won’t matter how ridiculous they sound to others. What matters is that you are in this battle everyday but you can also win it everyday. And with anxiety, this is exactly how you have to fight.
There are days of course that bridges produce me certain anxiety, and I have to admit, I am still afraid, but I learned a new path on my road to recovery, so in a way, anxiety can force you to be creative and turn you into a hero, just like that.
