My fear of heights

I have a fear of heights and yet I love hanging from planes and climbing hikes peaks, and want to go sky divining. I enjoy rollercoaster’s and rides and make your stomach sink. However when I stand at the top of a large building or near the end of a railing near a cliff where there is loose gravel and rocks, or on a bridge and get extremely scared and feel weak and uneasy in my stomach. I think this fear goes back to my childhood and an event that happen to me while on vacation with my family. I think I was about 8 years of age and like to explore and play outside in the woods. One summer my family spent a week boating up the St. Lawrence River into Canada. We would spend time at different islands in the states then in Canada, and fish and swim. Take the dingy around and explore the water. Some of the islands had camps and sandy beaches, and we would often bring tents and sleep outside instead of in the boat. One of the islands we docked at had some really exciting cliffs around the other beck edge over looking the Canadian landscape. I wanted to go explore and my father and I headed out to see what we would find. We located a small path just past the end of the dock, and headed off up and over the first few rocks. I was excited and remember running ahead and jumping around as we walked further into the woods towards the steeper edges of the islands. As we reached a clearing I could see the water and could see we were high up above the water. I remember my father saying to be careful as i ran ahead and to not get to close to the edge. No sooner did he say that I had started to make my way down a small bank towards the edge of the cliff. I hadn’t noticed all of the pines needles, and suddenly slipped on a patch and started to slide fast towards the edge. I remember grabbing at everything and anything nearby but couldn’t seem to get a hold, as I continued to slide. It felt like I was never going to stop the cliff was getting closer. When all of a sudden the back my shirt tugged and I was jerked back to a quick stop. I sat there looking down at the edge of the rocks and seeing some of them fall off from my body kicking them. My fathers who’s face was in sheer panic grabbed my shit, and pulled me close and secured us by a nearby tree. I remember him not yelling at me but being very stern about staying close and hugging me. He must have realized how in shocked I was and changed his tone to a more instruction tone and told me that the pines needs could sometimes be like ice and you have to watch where you step. My heart was in my throat and my stomach was uneasy, I felt cold and chilled and shocked at what had just happened and how close we were. I don’t remember anything else about that island or even if we continued to look around more. I do remember I was scared out of my mind, not only with the thought of me having fallen but the fact that my father could have fallen himself trying to save me. Later that night we took the dingy around to where we had slipped, and I think my fear of heights and being near slippery step edges comes from was seeing the large jagged rocks about 30 feet below that we could have landed on. Even writing this, I can still remember vividly that slip and how It scared me.