memoir writers homework-hidden fear.

There really is no better reason for my hidden fear than falling from a roof top.You see,I was paying more attention to something on the ground than to the new shingles I was trying to nail down.And I backed up,far to close to the edgeand started to fall straight back.It seemed as though I had a lot of timeto think about things on the way down,and to develop a brand new phobia.My father had said hewas going to visit the neighbor,about a half mile away.But did he say he was walking or takeing the car?Because if he was walking,the car was about to have a me shaped sunroof installed,as soon as I hit bottom.And of course,there was the wood pile along the side of the cottage.I must,at all costs avoid that I thought,imagining what a sizeable pile if maple and birch logs would do to me.So when I tipped over the edge,I pushed out with my feet and hoped it was enough.when I landed,after what seemed like a very long time it was on our grassy driveway,in a huge puddle.It felt kind of spongy,but my tail bone still ached once I got uo.My back and legs were sore too.But no one had seen me and I would be damned if I was going to tell anyone what I had done all for the view of  that girl in her bright orange bikini..And I managed to conceal the truth,not just from my parents,who wondered about how I had aquired a limp for a few days,but from everyone else including myself as well.

Then came the day I hired on to disassemble a whole warehouse full of shelving,some of it about sixty feet from the floor.And I simply had not given the past it's due.I used to enjoy being in some place where I could look down on the world.But not any more.Climbing up those shelves so I could take them apart was complete hell.I would get dizzy when I first climbed up and would have to sit there for some time to become accostomed to the height.And working up there with anyone else around me was out of the question.But,by breathing deeply,praying to God and keeping focused on what was directly in front of me I got through the two months that it took to tear down all those shelves and rebuild them in a different warehouse.But the worst part of the whole thing was coming back down at the end of the day.Once I crawled up to where I was working,I would only ever come down if the work made it unavoidable,or,preferably,once,at the end of the day.I dreaded that trip back down to the floor,because I actually had to look down.And I tried very hard to convince myself that my fear was irrational and that I could do the job.And,more than anything else,I didn't want anyone to know what was really going on in my mind.