Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.
Sadly, I have many, many fears and phobias – this is probably due primarily to my (aforementioned) PTSD. I am not sure that I could really compose a comprehensive list of three fears that are both “legitimate fears”…. (if I have a legitimate fear, can my mind shut that whole thing down? *zing!*), and something that I feel comfortable sharing with the whole wide world of the Internets (all two of you who visit my page!), so I will just settle for the first three fears that come to mind.
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| I know, I know...its old. But I am still not over it! |
Fear #1 – Zombie Attacks
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| The zombies in my nightmares are never this personable. =( |
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| *cue The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again |
So why zombies specifically? When I moved here with my
husband a couple of years ago, some really weird shit immediately started to
happen here in good ol’ Floriduh. Well, to be fair, weird shit is always
happening here – but this was different. An enraged naked man randomly attacked
a homeless man and ate most of his face…HIS FACE. And then, when the police
shot him, he grunted at them and kept attacking! Here is a quote from a Huffington
Post story, which I will post the link(s) to at the end of this entry.
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| Is there anything appetizing about that guy's face or neckbeard to you? |
Gruesome photos circulating the web would later confirm most of Poppo's face, including his nose, eyes, and mouth, was ripped away, in what Miami's Fraternal Order of Police vice president Sgt. Javier Ortiz told the Associated Press was of the "goriest scenes I've ever been to." Poppo remains in critical condition.
"He had his face eaten down to his goatee. The forehead was just bone. No nose, no mouth,"said Sgt. Armando Aguilar, Miami FOP president. "In my opinion, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
What. The. Fuck? “But it’s just an isolated incident – a freak
occurrence!” says you. Ya. Nope. Not at all an isolated incident. I did ONE
Google search and found the aforementioned story; this headline:
Another Florida ‘zombie’ attack? Naked man storms girlfriend’s house, bites chunk out of man’s arm - Drug-addled man takes off all of his clothes in his lover's home and then bites another man on the bicep. Police had to taser him twice to subdue him.
…and this headline:
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| Zombie Mickey - just as endearing as regular Mickey Found here |
Another Zombie Attack? Naked Florida Man Jeremiah Haughee Climbs On Roof, Bites Home Owner And Cop.
So ya, don’t give me any of that isolated incident bullshit.
This is reeeeal. I could be out on a stroll and it would not be unheard of for
me to get nommed by an enraged naked zombie person. If I went out for a walk
and got bitten by a zombie it might not even be front page freakin’ news! To
sum up the reason why I fear zombies – I live in the most ‘effed up place on
earth.
Fear #2 – Bathroom mirrors
This is one of those really long stories with way too many
details that would probably be best left uttered to a therapist rather than the
Interwebs, so I will try to stay brief. In the mid-eighties when I was in grade
school there was a really popular urban legend about Bloody Mary. I found a reading
of it that I have posted below – this version seems to best fit the tale that I
had muttered to me as a child.
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| Okay so picture is not quite related but they sounded that creepy |
I would hear the story, then forget it for a while – as kids
do. Then, one day while I was in one of the stalls in the bathroom during
recess, I heard one of my classmates threaten another with the story. She
warned her that “Bloody Mary was going to kill her.” I thought that it was
pretty cruel but I was a very shy little girl who kept to herself. I began to
readjust my clothes and flush. I heard screaming, then I heard it. Three or
four girls chanting..
Bloody Mary...
Bloody Mary...
Bloody Mary...
…and then I heard a scuffle, the door slam, a girl scream
and I saw…nothing. Blackness. Someone had shut the lights out. I heard the
other girl that had been trapped in the bathroom scuffle and cry and scream for
the next several minutes. I could do nothing but sit on the toilet and hug my
knees with my eyes closed. Eventually, after what felt like a very long time,
someone opened the door. For some reason both the lock and the lights for the
bathroom were outside of the door – I assume this was to keep children out of
mischief. I snuck out of the bathroom after the other girl left. I was never
sure if anyone ever knew that I was there.
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| FFFFUUUUUUUUUU!!!! |
THIS is the very beginning of why I am afraid of bathroom
mirrors. To call Bloody Mary you had to chant in the mirror, you see. Unfortunately
for me, the mirror in my grandmother’s lone bathroom was HUGE. I had to stare
at that thing every day after that traumatizing ass day. I always wondered if
Mary was going to “come” for me. So far, so good but anything could happen (see
Fear #1).
Fear #3 – Death
I think this also started when I
was a kid. I lost my first grandmother (not the one I lived with) when I was
about six, and then I lost my pawpaw when I was about eight. I was not
particularly close to my grandmother that died when I was young, but I did
adore my pawpaw (the grandmother I lived with’s husband.) He was a really
sweet, nice man. He cared about sick people, poor people, people that needed
help. He devoted his time to them. He was Christian in a way that doesn’t really
exist anymore. When I lost him, it devastated me – but I did not understand
death enough to fear it.
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I began to fear it after watching
some really demented show that I should not have watched. I cannot remember the
name of the show (if you know what I am talking about please tell me!!), but it
scarred me. I cannot remember the specifics of it but basically, there is this
village of people who make a deal or a wager with “death”. In the show death
was personified – probably as a guy in a black cloak, but I don’t remember for
sure.
The people win the wager and death has to go away, never to return. The
villagers were really happy for a long time, until one of them got really sick.
One after one all of the villagers began to get really sick, really old, really
miserable. By the end of the episode they were all writhing in agony from some
affliction or another but they just could not die because they had sent “death”
away. They were all begging for death….
That shit…..woah. Imagine being a
9 year old and seeing that! That one show began my fear of death that I think,
is a healthy and natural thing for everyone to have – at least for a little
while.
What are your fears (besides
really long blog posts)? I really want to know! Thanks for reading!
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