This is a story of a little girl who would freak when her sister climbed in behind her into a snow igloo (which she and her sister had built), because there was only one opening and with her sister in the opening, she felt trapped (never mind that she could have stood up at any point and broken through the roof of said igloo). Fast-forward 30 years. That little girl, now a grown woman, has never overcome that fear of tight spaces, but she wants to be a firefighter.
Last week's fire school classes made me face these fears to a degree that I have never had to before. After completing (and I use completing in the loosest possible way) the air consumption test, we had a bit of a break, and then it was onto the maze. I knew I was dreading it, but really didn't know exactly what it was I was dreading. It turned out to be so much worse than I had imagined.
So, let me back-track for a minute. The week leading up to the air consumption test was very stressful for me because I had a track record of freaking out when "on air." I don't enjoy breathing air that comes out of a cylinder (yes, I SCUBA dive, and I realize there is a disconnect here, but what can I say? It's a woman's prerogative to be inexplicable). I was not sure I would be able to go through the test without hyperventilating and then tearing off my mask in a mad frenzy. For several nights that week, I woke up multiple times to heart-racing panic attacks. I knew what was causing them, but I could not get my unreasonable fears under control.
I did make it through the consumption test without hyperventilating (very thankful for that). Every claustrophobe has their own way of dealing with the discomfort - singing, humming, thinking of something pleasant. For me, it's focusing entirely on the task at hand. The more concentration a task takes, the easier it is for me to "forget" that I am on air. Climbing the stairs is the worst because it takes almost no concentration. Conversely, raising the fly on the extension ladder is great because it takes ever ounce of my concentration.
A little later, staring into the low, narrow hallway that begins the maze, I froze. My heart was racing, my breathing was far from under control, and the terror of being accidently locked in my dark bedroom closet as a child returned with more force than I could have imagined. I could NOT make myself go any farther into that shipping container. Thankfully, one of the instructors had mercy on me and allowed me to take the mask off and go through it like that. There were still moments when I felt irrationally scared (usually when I got stuck), but I was able to continue on until I made it to the end and back out into the sunlight. I will have to do it again at some point - on air - but that is a fear to face another day.
Since then, I have had nightmares every night, and every night it's the same two nightmares. One is where I am in a coffin, buried alive. The other is right out of a WWII movie... I am escaping a POW camp through a small tunnel.. there are guys in front of me and guys behind and I am stuck in this tiny little tunnel. The panic attack that ensues wakes me before the dream is able to come to a natural end, and I am left lying there in bed, shaking with adrenaline coursing through my body, trying to calm myself and go back to sleep.
Now, you may be wondering why I continue down this path when it seems that this is NOT the hobby for me. But the truth is, this confined space rescue stuff is such a small part of fire fighting, and I LOVE the fire service. I have been a probationary fire fighter for approximately 9 months and count down the days between duty crew assignments. As this point, not making it through fire school would be the most depressing thing that could happen to me. I am determined to face down my fears and finish what I've started!
