Debra told me her story about the elevator she has been stuck in when she read my fear blog. That got me to thinking. Don’t you love those words?
I remember as a child when I used to have a recurring dream of being stuck in the old Bernhardt building elevator. That wasn’t bad enough. The floor of the elevator would start to slant with me at the top of the building that was way high back then, four stories. The memories of how that dream affected me are still with me today. Even the mention of the old Bernhardt building brings back the thoughts of trying to fight my way off the elevator, even hanging on and dangling from the slanted floor four stories above the basement.
Back then, my aunt and her friend took me to the Bernhardt building to shop without knowing that I had been dreaming of this place for years before ever going up into it or really even knowing it existed. At any rate, we are coming down after going up and I remember being between the two of them. As I recall, my legs started giving out because the memory of the dream took over and I started sliding down the back wall of the elevator. This must have been close to the time my mother left because I don’t remember being very old. Instead of the floor slanting and my dangling, by the time we reach the bottom, I have fainted. A full southern girl swoon. My aunt noticed and pulled me back up to a standing position. See, you’re not supposed to do things like that where I came from. That fainting spell, which has only happened twice in my life that I can remember but without both being in an elevator, continued those devastating recurring dreams. It was because I couldn’t control my situation. Still don’t love elevators but will use them when I have to.
Another time on an elevator, about 3-6 years ago, the elevator stopped, shall we say, high-up between floors, and it was packed. The Bernhardt building elevator came back to me quickly. And when people noticed my pale expression, Claude mentioned that I was claustrophobic. One sweet woman decided to start jumping up and down to show me that we would be fine. After about the fourth jump, as nicely as I could say it between my gritted teeth, I told the sweet young lady that if she ever wanted to get off the ……..elevator, then perhaps she should stop now…..because I was beginning to turn from remembering how the Bernhardt elevator had done my mind to thinking of how she might take my mind off my situation when I……..anyway, thank God, she stopped. And I remain, hopefully, the nice person that I and others think I am. Maybe it was the look I had on my face or maybe she had a psychic moment or maybe it was because another nice lady there told her that she shouldn’t make this any worse for me.
My point is, Debra, no sane person wants to be on an elevator, especially one that goes very high up into the atmosphere, you know what I mean. And maybe, you were sensing a problem with this elevator. Give yourself a break like I almost gave that sweet, young, jumping lady. Sit down and meditate for a moment about what you were feeling and whether there will be problems with that elevator later. And know you are not the only one that can have that out-of-control feeling.
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