Exactly a week ago, my sisters and I were hiking to Suicide Peak in Clear Water Bay, a pretty major feat since I am afraid of heights. I’d love to reference my trip to the Isle of Skye here, but I haven’t even written that post (time evidently doesn’t flow linearly on this blog) but I’ll try to explain why this hike was such a big occasion for me.

On my fear of heights

I tell people that I have a fear of heights because it’s the easiest thing to say. But to be very, very honest, the fear is split into two parts:

1. The fear of falling – this is why even on solid bridges, you’ll see me walk a little faster than normal. In my mind, the ground can give way at any moment
2. The fear that this is the day that I give in.

The second point is the weird one (and honestly, somewhat embarrassing and hard to talk about) but to explain it, we have to go back to my childhood. When I was seven or eight years old, my great-grandmother died and that was the first time I felt disconnected from the world. I don’t remember much of that day, to be honest, but I remember walking in the middle of the road in hopes that a car would come along and the impact would wake me up.

And this urge to be woken up has remained. It is, in fact, one of the major reasons why I quit my job in Japan – I was feeling the disconnect in the form of a glass wall separating me from everyone else pretty much every day, and it was taking effort not to smash my car into the railings because a voice in my brain told me that it was the way to wake up (the other voice in my brain told me that my insurance wouldn’t cover it, which is why it never happened).

I have no idea if this is normal or not, which is why it’s pretty hard to talk about it (I think I’ve only spoken about it once or twice and to even text this to someone is pretty much unthinkable). But basically, every time I’m near heights or near roads with fast-moving traffic, I take a step back because not only is one part of my mind thinking of the worst-case scenario, another part of my mind is urging me to make that worst-case scenario happen.

And now that you know about my fear of heights…

The Hike to Suicide Cliff

We weren’t actually supposed to be hiking there. When I was first told about the hike, I was told we were going to Dragon’s Back. But my sister’s friend told her that Suicide Cliff and the views were so stunning that their Instagram followers would increase and all that. I did mention that I was scared of heights and ideally wanted a proper path and my sister assured me that it was a proper path set by the Hong Kong government. So imagine my surprise when we got to the start of the hiking trail and saw this:

This did not instill any confidence in me that the trail was approved by the Hong Kong government. But my sisters wanted to press on and we did.

I want to take a moment to mention that I am very proud of myself for hiking up all those steps because I’ve not been hiking before (not that I can remember) and was extremely worried that I would end up hyperventilating again.

Most of the hike was just lots of steps going up. It was strenuous but not too bad and my fear of heights hadn’t really kicked in. I was really just focused on making sure that I did not slip or step on a green and/or small rock.

Halfway through, things got really misty and windy. At first, I was rather upset by it because I thought it would ruin pictures (it did) but I grew to be really thankful for the mist*. Because the end of the trail to Suicide Cliff was absolutely terrifying. This is where I had to stop:

It doesn’t look too bad because I took it from ground level but from my standing perspective, the last hundred meters or so consisted of a very narrow path on top of a sloping ridge. Obviously, my fear of heights kicked in like crazy and after about 50 meters of forcing myself forward and slipping a few times, I sank to the floor and insisted that I could not go further.

My sisters were adamant that the way down was from the edge of the cliff down and that I just had to stop being a baby and walk but this is not one of those happy stories and I totally was not able to overcome my fear. I insisted that I was not able to go any further and basically made everyone hike back the way we came.

It’s embarrassing to say (not sure if my detailed description of my fear of heights in the section above is worse or what I’m about to say is worse) but I actually cried because my sisters convinced me that my fear was irrational and I should be able to overcome it but I was just so scared that I refused to take another step. The trek back was not very pleasant, although it wasn’t as strenuous as the trek up.

I did a bit of googling when we went back to the hotel room and it seems like the trail my sisters were thinking of is the one that Julienne hiked. Looking at her post, I definitely would not have been able to go back via that route or even go to the cliff by that route.

Sorry if you thought this was going to be one of those uplifting posts where I overcame a deep-seated fear. I did accomplish several things on the hike – I realised that I had the physical strength to accomplish this and it was nice to be among nature – but overcoming my fear of heights was not one of them. I suppose that for some phobias, one try isn’t enough.

And on more practical matters, if you’ve got a fear of heights, I would not recommend Suicide Cliff. Even if the views were good.

*I was thankful for the mist because if we had great views, I’m pretty sure the threat of falling + the urge to fall would have been so much stronger and I would have been an even worse mess.