Columnist Alun Newman: Exposure therapy is the answer to overcoming my fears

I like to believe I can cope under pressure, however, I know that when things go wrong, I panic within seconds.

I’m better than I used to be, but I was a nightmare 'back then'. If I was late to a wedding, baptism or meal, I’d be impossible to talk to. Add to being already late and unable to find a parking space, you’d think the world was ending.

I also couldn’t cope with blood, bones, breathing issues or most things related to the human body.

That was until I received the cure.

I was lucky enough to spend a full shift with South Coast Ambulance Service. I fully appreciate that I had no responsibility and, when you’re harnessed to people with enormous skill and experience, it feels like being in a movie.

I thought I would faint, panic, cry or pass out, but that wasn’t the case.

By about hour number four of the shift, I was in the full swing of it and asking questions.

I saw events I would never choose to see, yet people were in distress and receiving brilliant care, and I was healed too.

Ever since that day I’ve been able to nearly watch shows like 999 What’s Your Emergency? I can now have a blood test and let someone take my pulse without going woozy.

I’m on my way to becoming a real man - exposure therapy is the answer.

I mentioned a while ago that, with all this rain, I’ve had the mother and father of water leaks coming into my home. It has been stressful.

I have a well-established fear of heights, and I needed to reach the upstairs windows from the outside. For me, this is Mount Everest.

My “real man” neighbour lent me his massive aluminium extension ladder. Previously there's not a chance of me going up it. But I was up against two pressure points: fixing this could save me hundreds, if not thousands of pounds and there was no expert available for more than a week.

I placed a distracted, eye-rolling young adult at the base of the ladder and up I went. Slowly at first, armed with mastic, a Stanley knife, cleaning cloths and hope. Progress was slow and not helped by the ladder-holder asking for updates and a completion time.

However, I surprised myself. After about 20 minutes, I could focus far better. I was breathing in a way that didn’t resemble childbirth, my brain stabilised. I was cured.

Sure, I’d probably just set a new limit, but I was cured.

I even started to enjoy it.

Could it be that the right mix of money-saving versus potential impending damage, plus exposure therapy, equals being cured? I’m now only afraid of heights higher than a first-floor window - that is therapeutic progress.

Next stop, the gutters!