Anyone here suffer from claustrophobia?

[bogeyman]

Are lift doors hard to prise apart?

Almost impossible in my experience.

[nomadd]

Right there with you. I'll walk up ridiculous amounts of stairs to avoid a lift, and I really get stressed by crowded trains/tubes too. Not sure it's ever really cost me any gigs, but it's part of the reason I'd never want to work in the city.

I think with lifts it's the not knowing what's going on that's the bigger issue. Lifts you can see out of, even on the sides of tall buildings, don't bother me at all.

Yep, that's the crazy thing with me. Stick me in a lift that's made of glass, and I'm fine, no matter how high it goes. But a lift without a window - I panic!

I know the fear is irrational - aren't all phobias? - but somehow I've never quite managed to overcome it. I've had periods where I've forced myself to use the lifts for a few days, but then I regress and go back to using the stairs. Guess I'll be doing that on this job, if they turn out to actually offer me the damn thing!

Anyway, a big thank you to everyone who replied; it's nice to know I'm not the only one who suffers like this. I'll try to take my mind of it over the weekend by concentrating on the Japanese Grand Prix. Go Jenson!

Nomadd

[OwlHoot]

I didn't think I suffered from claustrophobia, until I tried caving.

Try being stuck in a tight, wet crawl space about 22 inches high and 15 yards long, 300 feet underground, with a million tons of solid limestone above you, with your dithering instructor's boots stuck right in front of your face, and your own boots stuck in the face of some bloke behind, who is panicking, with yet another bloke behind him

The only time I got a bit nervous caving was in Stoke Lane Slocker floating on my back through the large flooded chamber leading to Sump 1 - in several feet of water, as I recall, with about an inch of air at the top and my nose scraping along the rough ceiling and almost pitch dark.

(You still with me nomadd? )

Then after thirty feet, you have to take a deep breath and dive under the water, swim for another several feet and surface, being careful not to overshoot and end up stuck under a large underwater overhang.

P.S. Years ago I was told Stoke Lane had gone, after a building company had been given planning permission to mine the area for aggregate; but I'm glad to see from that Wikipedia reference that it's still there.

[nomadd]

The only time I got a bit nervous caving was in Stoke Lane Slocker floating on my back through the large flooded chamber leading to Sump 1 - in several feet of water, as I recall, with about an inch of air at the top and my nose scraping along the rough ceiling and almost pitch dark.

(You still with me nomadd? )

No, I'd be outside in the sunshine, minding your wallet.

Nomadd

[Board Game Geek]

Halo and I did 4 hours extreme caving in NZ several years ago, around the Waitomo caves area.

There was the "tourist" route, in which you sit in a boat and gently glide through the caves.

We chose the "insane nutter" route, of which 4 hours was spent in almost complete darkness, wearing wet suits, traversing tricky fissures and climbs underground, including one section where you plunge in to the darkness in to water and let it carry you 20-30 feet under a low roof with no air space, until you can surface the other side to breathe.

I have never felt so "alive" during the experience, and loved every minute of it. The whole feeling of being many feet underground in utter darkness, I felt deeply comforting and relaxing.

I've always been like this. I grew up in the country and used to use hay bales to make large dens with lots of little passages and switchbacks. Even as a child, I had to argue with my parents to get completely opaque curtains for my bedroom, because I detested the merest hint of light.

I find the dark comforting in a deeply primal way.

The next best thing is complete silence. Utter silence. It's great and I can think better when there is little to no noise around me.

I think I'm practicing for when I'm dead.

[TinTrump]

The only time I got a bit nervous caving was in Stoke Lane Slocker floating on my back through the large flooded chamber leading to Sump 1 - in several feet of water, as I recall, with about an inch of air at the top and my nose scraping along the rough ceiling and almost pitch dark.

You and BGG are both nutters! The closest I've got to such activities is strolling through Chistlehurst caves. Which isn't very close at all.

[Board Game Geek]

TinTrump posted : Chistlehurst caves

Now that was frightening, honest !

There was a Dark Elf Assassin picking off our group one by one, until it was just me (Fighter) and the Cleric left.

Luckily, the Cleric managed to get a Slow spell off, and I charged in with "Quad, Quad, Quad" quite a few times, until the DM said "Er..he's dead now".

Such happy times...

[norrahe]

Now that was frightening, honest !

There was a Dark Elf Assassin picking off our group one by one, until it was just me (Fighter) and the Cleric left.

Luckily, the Cleric managed to get a Slow spell off, and I charged in with "Quad, Quad, Quad" quite a few times, until the DM said "Er..he's dead now".

Such happy times...

Dear god, a larper

and you willingly admit to this in public?

Are you still larping?

[Board Game Geek]

Norrahe posted : Are you still larping?

Nah, not in a regular sense anymore. The last time we did LARP'ing was at Gencon 2000 in Manchester. Original post here.

We stick to pen and paper or online these days, and play weekly or so.

[Sysman]

Funny you should say that (not the vat of acid bit) but I have been a climber for many years, and I have quite a healthy fear of heights.

I think the difference is that when you're 'outside' (on a rockface, say) then you are in control. You have a grip on the rock, roped if necessary - it's in your control. If you fall off it's your own fault.

I'd rather fall a thousand feet to my death than be held fast in some dank underground (and possibly be drown, to add to the fun) in some awful underground tunnel.

I did a bit of rock climbing in younger days, and also couldn't cope with the idea of potholing. There was one guy who was an excellent climbing leader who I would have trusted to take me down a pothole, but at that time I wasn't as fit as I'd have liked, so declined.