Monday, November 30, 2009
Managing My Phobias
I, like all normal people, have a healthy assortment of phobias.
I have acrophobia (the fear of high places), as in puking my guts out when I peek over the railing at Hoover Dam.
I have hydrophobia (the fear of water), as in drowning. My anxiety level tends to increase steadily during the week until it peaks on Saturday nights, when Martha makes me take a bath—whether or not I need one.
I have claustrophobia (the fear of closed-in spaces), as in elevators and airplanes. Closets don’t bother me, though, because I’m used to sitting in them. Like whenever Martha says, “SIT in that closet, buster, until you are good and ready to EAT your Brussels sprouts!”
I have arachnophobia (the fear of spiders), as in, “DID YOU KILL THE FILTHY FUCKER, MARTHA? ARE YOU POSITIVE IT’S DEAD? POKE IT WITH THAT STICK THERE A FEW TIMES, JUST TO MAKE SURE!”
I’m pretty damn good, though, at keeping my phobias under control.
For acrophobia, I do not go up on the roof of our one-story house.
For hydrophobia, I piddle around in the sink a little to keep Martha happy. I also avoid birdbaths, puddles, and the North Sea.
For claustrophobia, I take the stairs instead of the elevator, unless the building is more than three stories tall, in which case I do not go in it at all because my acrophobia kicks in. I never travel, so there’s no reason to fly there.
And for arachnophobia, I spray nuclear spider killer stuff all over the place, including my important bits just to be extra safe. Everything glows an odd shade of green in the dark, but that’s okay—I’m not afraid of green.
Okay, okay, I confess. I am a phobic mess, a one-man train wreck (siderodromophobia).
I am afraid of being tickled by feathers (pteronophobia), so I avoid pillow factories, Las Vegas showrooms, and chickens.
I am deathly afraid of my mother-in-law, so I’m pentheraphobic.
I am ephebiphobic because teenagers scare the shit out of me. Come to think of it, they scared the shit out of me when I was a teenager.
So how do I control these newly confessed phobias? I take the meds, man, I take the meds.
[An interesting website: The Indexed Phobia List]