nail bitingLast week, we started “30 Things My Kids Should Know About Me” with 20 Random Things About Me.  For the second post of the “30 Things My Kids Should Know About Me”, I’ll be writing about my fears.  Have you ever been afraid?  Was it of something rational?  Normal?  Crazy?  C’mon…you can tell me.  What are your fears?  We’ve ALL got them.  Some of them are deeply rooted in something awful, and others are just odd fears or phobias that we can’t really explain, but that grip us mercilessly just the same.  I wish I could tell you that my fears were rational.  Or that I have some obvious reason for them, but for the most part, I don’t.  They’re just fears, plain and simple.

My first fear (and one that has been with me my whole life!) is the fear of clowns.  Crazy, huh?!  Clowns are supposed to make people happy, and make balloon animals for kids, and tell jokes, and juggle…right?  Well in my mind (for whatever sordid reason!) *all* clowns are straight out of a Stephen King movie.  And before you ask, I never saw IT – seemed like the perfect way to scare myself into a tizzy of stupid.  But still, the worst and most terrifying parts of haunted houses for me were ALWAYS the clowns.  I mean, who the crap thought of standing a clown up against a wall in an outfit that matched the wallpaper, add a strobe light, and then parade unsuspecting fools through?!  Read: The night Cayce almost had a heart attack!  And there were many more haunted houses after that because *apparently* I’m a glutton for punishment.  That stopped when I was about 19 or 20.  Then I moved out on my own, and decided I didn’t think volunteering to be terrified was exactly the smartest thing I’d ever done.  End of the haunted houses.  But you will NEVER catch me hanging out with a clown.  Ever.

My second fear (not quite as illegitimate as the clowns) is of mascots.  And by mascots, I mean anything in a full body costume.  You laugh?  Well, if the Easter Bunny mugs you, what are you going to tell the cops?  He had big ears and a tiny wittle fuzzy wuzzy tail?  See!  Those aren’t *all* fully background checked upstanding people in there – I’m not saying all mascots are bad, but I’m just saying those are people in there.  And I just choose not to trust them.  Want to get added to “My List”?  Call a mascot over to take a picture with me.  You’ll get the stank-eye as soon as I catch my breath, and quit shaking.  Now unlike the clown thing, this fear has a history.  When I was 14, my youth group went to Kings Island and Yogi Bear touched my butt during a group photo.  *eye roll*

“Are you freaking serious, Yogi?!?!”

And thanks to that grabby bear jerk, I’ve never trusted another mascot again.

My third fear is of flying.  I haven’t always been afraid of it, which doesn’t make sense because it isn’t like I’ve ever been on a plane that crashed or even had to make an emergency landing.  But somewhere around my mid 20’s, my brain decided flying wasn’t cool anymore, and now I’m a panicky fool on every flight.  I should add that I’m aware of how safe it is, and that more people die in cars than on planes, and that it is much faster and sometimes cheaper, yadda yadda.  I know!  But it nearly takes me chewing a Xanax and washing it down with tequila just to get me on the plane.  Then I’ll have to do it again about mid-flight just to stop white-knuckling the arm rests.  The last flight I was on, I sat next to a guy who sold cable packages for a living.  We engaged in the usual awkward “We’re breathing the same air, and since neither of us is asleep, I suppose we should talk” banter, and it came up that I was a nurse…who was afraid to fly.  He found it laughable that I wouldn’t mind touching someone’s exposed heart, but being in a plane made me want to vomit.  I, however, failed to see the humor.  If I’m touching *your* heart, clearly I’m safe.  Flying in a plane, I’m basically on the other side – my heart (life!) is literally in someone else’s hands.  I’ll fly with someone else I know though because then they can talk to me and keep me calm, as well as keep me from clutching a total stranger’s arm should the plane plummet from the sky.  Am I the only one?!

So now that I’ve had half a therapy session blogging this today, I’m going to sign off, and hope that next week’s post doesn’t make me sound so crazy!  Happy Wednesday y’all!  🙂