If I could fall into the sky: My experience of Casadastraphobia

"Casadastraphobia is the fear of falling into the sky. It is a relatively recently identified fear, having first appeared on urbandictionary.com" - Phobia Wiki.

I'm relieved to have learned the name for this particular phobia, because recently I had an episode which convinced me I have it.

Before I go into that, I must explain that my fear of falling into the sky seems to be linked with being around extremely tall buildings; I believe this has been made worse by dreams where I've looked up at a skyscraper and I just lose all sense of balance and start getting sucked up into the atmosphere.

The other day this fear leaked into reality when I stood right underneath a 25-storey high rise in Manchester and made the mistake of looking up at it. My knees went completely weak and my heart began to race, sweat collecting on the palms of my hands. I was queueing at the time and I grabbed the nearest metal barrier in an attempt to steady myself. I really did feel like gravity was going to switch off and I was going to plunge into the vast blackness of the night - maybe holding on to a heavy object would keep me grounded. Although I knew the whole thing was ridiculous, I also felt an immediate urge to stand under the canopy at the building's entrance or somewhere with a ceiling so that I literally couldn't fall into the universe.

I believe this type of fear stems from a worry of losing control - having to hold on to the things that matter to you for dear life whilst there are powerful forces at play with the potential to snatch you away when you least expect it.

On reflection, my fear of falling into the sky makes sense when I think about other things that have given me the eebie-jeebies throughout my life - open fields where the sky is a little TOO big; heights; steep slopes; falling; lone skyscrapers that stick out like sore thumbs. Maybe Casadastraphobia is where it all stems from.

The panic I felt that night in Manchester was parallel to how I reacted a few years ago in which a fear of heights was triggered that I didn't know I had. My parents, partner at the time and I went to see The Book of Mormon at The Palace Theatre (also in Manchester) and I had a full-blown panic attack whilst sitting in the balcony tier. I knew I suffered with vertigo to a degree, but that night the primitive part of my brain was screaming that I was going to topple head-first from a great height and die. I felt sick, shaky and like I owed Matt Stone and Trey Parker an apology for not being able to fully enjoy their masterpiece.

I wonder if my fear of falling into the sky was conceived subconsciously through one of my favourite pastimes as a child; I made regular visits to my local park, where I spent hours roly-polying down green hills which were adjacent to a court of high-rise flats. After tumbling and spinning down the undulating slopes until the land flattened, I'd open my eyes and look dizzily up into the whirling sky. I had to clench on to the grass to steady myself as I felt like my body could leave the earth. The high-rise flats swerved, towering over me, and I felt somewhat afraid of them. Grey, concrete monsters that wanted to draw me towards them against my will, so I too could live in the sky.

Although my Casadastraphobia is not severe enough to affect my everyday life, I'm starting to dread encountering tall buildings more and more as time goes on, in case it triggers another episode. I want to go to New York in the future and stay there a short while, as I visited in 2010 and I loved it. The buildings didn't seem to bother me then.

I guess I'll just have to not look up.