My heart was pounding, my breathing restricted, my hands sweaty.
My instinct screamed at me, “You’re too young to die. Turn back now.”
My rational brain said, “That’s just your anxiety talking. You’re only going up the stairs of a lighthouse.”
My rational brain also said, “Lean forward as you climb the stairs, because if your panic makes you pass out, you don’t want to fall backward into the spiral of doom.”