Be very afraid!

Ah, yes...a list of my fears. These aren't in any particular order, just in the order they arose in my mind.


 I know this is absurd, silly even, but I'm afraid of dolls. You know the ones, those realistic-looking little weirdos that stare at you with beady dark brown eyes from that dusty old cobweb-filled corner of the basement. Often they wear old fashioned dresses and hairstyles, and some are antiques, causing people to collect them and display them on shelves. I, however, do not like them too much, because all they do is STARE.
That, to me is the equivalent of seeing a huge, ravenous snake in my yard. (and I'm not afraid of snakes!) Leave a creepy doll in my room and turn the lights out; see how long I stay there! 

I just don't know what it is about those darn, freaky little dolls. I think its their faces. Sometimes they're so realistic, you think they are just going to get up and walk.

A silly notion always occurs in my mind whenever I am alone with a doll. My imagination spawns horrid mental images of the what might happen, such as the doll suddenly filled with demonic life, standing up on wobbly but functioning feet, eyes flaring wide and hollow, lurching toward me with a zombie-like walk... I guess that's where the apprehension originates from. Many ghostly entities and other supernatural things, along with their obsession with candles and Ouija boards, would probably have no hard time manipulating a doll to scare the living hell out of someone. With me, though, this fear didn't start with watching horror movies like Chucky and the Puppetmaster. It is just there, simmering and intensifying like some potent potion for as long as I remain in the room with a doll in the right context, especially when the atmosphere its in is dark, old, full of the energies of many people who have been there. Like your Grandparent's house or something. Sometimes Grandma likes to collect dolls. She has them sitting there, clad in their little dresses or their Sailor suits, dusty hair put up real nice in styles we haven't seen in decades, dark eyes fixed on anyone who comes in, faces blank in a permanent expression that invokes a shiver of apprehension upon imagining what they do when everyone falls asleep...

just what is it about those tiny replicas of ourselves cause me to be so creeped-out?

Maybe its because they are dead things, unanimated human forms, a parody of life...


Another fear I have is of insects. Don't like them at all. They fly in your face and crawl around in your walls, they make hives and colonies, that if accidentally disturbed, could send angry winged multitudes out on a fiery wrath of stingers, and relentless armies of tiny, snapping jaws. Even flies, with their constantly buzzing wings and nasty little red eyes, do more on the freak-o-meter for me than so many other things. I especially do not like bees, wasps, hornets, or any other flying menace, regardless of how many of them help pollinate the flowers and such. One wrong move might upset them, cause them to swarm at me, and before I know it my body will be filled with poison...or worse, it will cause my body to respond to their venom with allergic reaction and deadly shock.

Even cockroaches, harmless as they are, cause me to squall madly and hop onto any nearby piece of furniture in a truly embarrassing frenzy to get away from the fiends. Or, if I'm courageous enough, I'll seize a big shoe and pummel it into the floor until it can no longer be recognized as anything that was once alive. (sorry!)

Also can't stand beetles, most importantly those fast-moving little jerks who just LOVE to fly and land on me whenever I'm relaxing by the pool in summer or just doing anything out in the yard at all. Not that I have anything against insects themselves, they can't help how creepy they are! Its just me, my weird ways. There are a couple insects I don't mind though, like Dragonflies for instance. Dragonflies are really cool!

Another fear I have is rejection. That's usually a normal thing with human beings, though. We all want to be accepted and loved. I don't want to do things that will offend/hurt others, but sometimes I do that unintentionally, but people don't always realize that I meant no harm.

I also fear something tragic happening, like a death of someone I love, that will forever change my life and family. There have been many close calls, and though it has never happened, I still have been through enough short-term trauma to know what the pain feels like.

Doctors, a little bit. I know they only want to help, but they are the wielders of needles. Me and needles just DON'T mix, dude. Once as a little girl, upon a visit to the doc to go get some booster shots, I freaked out, took off, and ran outside into the parking lot, screaming. Getting injections doesn't bother me as much as it used to, because now I understand how and why it needs to be done, but still, its freaking bad enough getting them, your family doesn't need to ask that agonizing question again: "oh, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Doctors also make me a bit apprehensive because of their demeanor, their emotionally detached and almost robotic way of moving and speaking. (no offense to any doctors out there, I'm only talking about a few I used to know) Maybe they kind of remind me of alien abductions. The metal table, the strange, cold instruments, the white, sterile atmosphere, the bright overhead lights, being poked and prodded and probed by an emotionally distant examiner who sometimes even wants to take samples of your blood.

Yeah...way too creepy.

Just imagine if you mixed the jittery and frenzied insects and the calm, collected doctors together. They would still want your blood, but for different reasons. Picture a giant, humanoid, hungry mosquito in medical whites, antennas quivering, questing proboscis extending toward a patient who is blissfully unaware of what is going on due to a paralyzing, half-coma inducing venom surging through their bloodstream. If that doesn't scare you, then there's something wrong with your head. (or mine) LOL.

It sometimes helps to mock whatever frightens me, to write about it, to dissect and know everything about it, because the more I do, the less frightening it seems.



The End

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