It’s funny how you can trace some of your more irrational fears back to incidents from your past, often that took place somewhere waaay back in your childhood.
For instance my fear of clowns goes back to a trip to the circus with my Grandfather back in Aberdeen (Scotland) when I was six. This was some little one ring traveling deal and it was my very first circus experience. If I close my eyes I can still remember the smells, the wood chips on the floor and holding a balloon while watching all of the antics with excitement while holding my Grandfather’s hand.
We were sitting in or near the front row, because I remember being very near the action. The clowns made me laugh when I saw them from a distance but then one walked over to where we were sitting and pulled me to my feet. I remember looking up at his face and seeing to my horror how cracks had formed in his makeup to me he seemed like some kind of monster.
As he pulled me away from my Grandfather towards the ring I remember looking back and forth between him and the clown, hearing the laughter and the cheers from the crowd and just opening up and screaming NO!!!!I leaned further over reaching out my free arm, crying outright by now so my Grandfather came and got me. I remember burying my face in his sweater as he picked me up and asking to just go. We left.
To this day I hate clowns. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel stupid about hating them.
I got to thinking about irrational fears this morning because I was watching a really cheesy episode of the more recent Twilight Zone series, starring of all people; Jessica Simpson. It was about a babysitter watching a kid who’s dolls escaped from their display case and were moving around the house. It was REALLY bad and yet I there I was watching the show between my fingers, my heart thumping because these were dolls people! Dolls that came to life! Dolls (in case you hadn’t already figured it out) = another irrational fear of mine.
*Edit* Tom sent me this picture of the movie that started my “dolls come to life” fear ‘Trilogy of Terror’
To round out the top ten of Belinda’s irrational fears:
-Driving over open pits (which makes oil changes a challenge, thank you honey for doing them for me!)
-Elevators (see: claustrophobia)
-Car washes (see above)
-Heights (not eek I’m scared fear but FUCK NO I’M NOT GOING ON THAT BRIDGE kind of fear) I get vertigo on step number three of a step ladder.
-Public speaking where a podium is involved (strangely I can talk in front of groups where I’m free to walk around or I’m sitting)
-Getting lost (I have zero sense of direction, so unfortunately this is very much a reality for me not just a fear)
-Bumper cars (ok that’s 11 so sue me)
Each one of those fears brings out irrational Belinda when provoked, the one that gets snappish and panicked unlike the more laid back Belinda I usually am.
I will ride an elevator but if it gets stuck, don’t expect me to just shrug my shoulders and wait it out, I will pace and froth at the mouth until we get out. If I’m lost, unless you are there to help me get me unlost shut the hell up, no jokes. If I’ve been suckered into going onto something high up, don’t rock, sway or tip it and if you insist on sitting on a patio for dinner in spring/summer expect me to do the hundred yard dash screaming with my hands flailing about if a bee comes anywhere near us. Lastly for the love of god don’t buy me a clown doll for Christmas.