If you’re scared…you’re not alone

 

I have a series of increasingly bonkers phobias (phobi-ai? phobee?….I’ll go phobias).

My fears start off boarder-line normal with clowns. I hate clowns, pictures of clowns, toy clowns. I also don’t really like puppets or porcelain dolls. I think the three are connected somewhere. I once went to visit a lady of a ‘certain age’ who had cases filled with such items. To say I was freaked out is putting it lightly.

I’m also genuinely afraid of people in full costume (anything where they have their head completely covered). I have been known to interrupt live concerts, walk a mile in the opposite direction and scream blue murder when confronted by people collecting for charity dressed as Pudsey bear.

I have a real problem with that bit in a restaurant where the waiter comes up to you with a giant pepper grinder – that’s probably less a phobia and more of a peeve but i do find it quite scary.

N.B I started writing this blog entry a couple of days ago and then stopped here because I got worried about exposing myself as some kind of crazy person…today I thought sod it, you already know, and I finished writing it.

What I’m really scared of is far less tangible but so much more threatening. It’s scary because it’s a very real threat to my happiness, and to those around me.

I’m scared of loss. I’m scared of the loss of a friend when you fall out. I’m scared of the loss of respect when I disappoint someone. I’m scared of the loss of another piece of my heart when a relationship ends. I’m scared of the loss of my dignity when I get old and helpless. I’m scared of the loss of a loved one through bereavement. I very recently realised that I’m terrified of loosing my mind. I’m terrified that getting another year older means the loss of opportunities that I always figured I’d have time for…this one is probably the most frightening of all.

I’d love to be someone who just lives day to day and says “I’m happy right now, what more could I want?”.

I just can’t do it.

But I figure that’s ok. As long as I’m always no more than a couple of miles away from someone who will give me a hug, pop me back on the feet and remind me that I’m fine. And if not, a little bird tells me to sort my self out.