There are plenty of phobias I don’t quite understand. Monkey, for example, is absolutely TERRIFIED of bees and wasps, which I gather is a not-uncommon thing amongst Aspies, but is nonetheless kind of annoying and disruptive when something comes along buzzing and he completely freaks out. Me, I’m actually allergic to wasps, and I’m not nearly as fearful as he is.
Chickadee’s needle phobia? I don’t get that, either. Needles don’t faze me. I gave myself shots every day when I was pregnant, and other than looking a little like a pincushion, it didn’t bother me.
But the truth is that I used to be fearless, and then my life filled up with wonderful things, and rather than making me feel calm and blessed, it has made me fearful. Because what if…? The things that should make me feel most secure and happy are now, oftentimes, the reasons I lay awake at night, worrying I might lose them.
Today I’m over at Off Our Chests, talking about this fear pendulum. I think we all have one. I’m coming to realize that mine needs some adjusting.