Me vs. stairs

I suffer from a mild case of bathmophobia. No, this does not mean I'm afraid of taking a bath, despite how the word sounds. Bathmophobia is a fear of stairs.

I think whoever coined that word was way off. And an idiot. So for the purpose of this post and because it makes more sense, I will call my fear, Stepophobia.

I didn't always have this fear. Actually, it's not a true fear. Let's just say I'm more cautious when going down them these days. Kind of like I'm walking through a landmine field while carrying nitroglycerin.

Anyway, like I was saying, it wasn't always like this. Until I misjudged some basement stairs and broke my ankle. I swear no alcohol was involved. It was a straight up accident that pissed me off more than it hurt. Like, ouch! Who the hell moved the damn stairs?!

Once I was able to walk completely cast-free again I became more aware of things that affected my legs and feet. Even wearing high heels weirded me out because I thought that one wrong move, one slip of the heel and I could twist or worse, break my ankle. Not that I ever wore extremely high heels like the clackers who go clubbing in stilettos do.

I have since gotten a lot better regarding my stepophobia. I can wear heels more confidently without worrying about tripping and ending up on the floor in a heap. I walk down stairs with more ease although I use the handrail more than I ever did. However, I wouldn't recommend walking behind me when I'm going down a staircase in high heels. In that situation, I still walk like it's my first time with the new legs.