Showing posts with label Phobias. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phobias. Show all posts

Monday, 20 June 2016

I freak out when...

Hello dear people. Today I am going to tell you what really, completely and totally freaks me the fuck out. It's freaky.

Here goes: 

I freak out when I see a cockroach. Unfortunately I have passed this trait on to my boys. Mickey Blue Eyes reckons I could be hired for sound effects in horror films. All they would have to do is put a cockroach in front of me. I emit the most blood-curdling, chilling scream of sheer horror. It is rather impressive for some one who is normally so quiet.

I freak out when I get dizzy.  This is a massive phobia for me. Weird. I guess it probably has a name.

I googled it. 

Apparently it is called  Dinophobia.

It all started 22 years ago when I jumped up quickly out of a chair when I was freaking out from seeing something on the telly that made me squeamish. (Yes, blood and guts and all that freaks me out, too!). I had a massive panic attack, hyperventilated and passed out. At the time I didn't actually identify it as a panic attack, because I'd never had one before.

I'm not sure if it was ongoing anxiety from that experience or the result of hitting my head when I passed out, but I then experienced frequent attacks of vertigo. It still freaks me out so much that I won't talk about it too much here. 

I don't understand how people enjoy going on amusement park rides and making themselves dizzy.  They are demented. I am not. The end. 

This phobia has changed who I am. I guess you could say that I've always been the scaredy cat person who was afraid of anything that threatened my equilibrium. 

As a child I was terrified of both escalators and elevators. To be honest it was never a claustrophobia thing, I just didn't like the sensation of movement. The feeling of the ground dropping and moving under you. It  totally freaked me out. I often avoided lifts. 

I also feared being on a boat or ferry because I didn't like the rocking sensation. Are you seeing a pattern here? I'm a 'two feet firmly on the ground' kind of girl. 

I can remember being terrified on a merry-go-round. Yes, I was a fun child. My brother and I often went to a park around the corner from my aunt's house. It had one of those rides that spin around. My brother LOVED it and I HATED it. 

"Scary-go-round" is a very apt name for this, if you ask me

So it's comforting to know that I haven't matured beyond the age of eight. Nice. I would still be terrified to spin around on those things. 

Next month we're headed to the Gold Coast. You won't see me on any rides at the theme parks. I'll happily mind the bags and jackets while Mickey Blue Eyes takes the boys on rides. I might even take a book. That's my kind of thrill seeking. Shut up.

I have to also confess that I freak out quite a bit every time I think about my breast cancer 'journey'/diagnonsense, which is often. It's the first thing I think about every morning, and the last thing I think about at night.

I am totally freaked out by the realisation that it was just random 'luck' that it was discovered and diagnosed when it was. It could have been so much worse. All I did was decide to go to the doctor for my pap smear. I didn't even receive a reminder for it like I normally would. Somehow I just had it in the back of my mind that it was due. I also knew I had to have some routine blood tests done. However, my GP had said to me mid last year that I could have left it until January if I wanted to. Between her saying that, and not receiving a pap smear reminder, I could easily have said to myself "Stuff it, I'll wait until January", but I didn't. THANK GOD I DIDN'T. I would have been so screwed.

As much as I wish the whole thing hadn't happened at all, it did. And my doctors say it was an early cancer. I wish I didn't have cancer at all, but at least I was 'lucky' that it was found relatively early. It's still a freaky feeling to think too much about the future and what may happen. Mickey Blue Eyes assures me that this is something that takes time. It took him a good few years to get past this fear. (He had bowel cancer in 2004). I guess it will always freak me out a little. But I'm learning that you live with uncomfortable feelings. I don't have to like them, but I can make room for them.

Speaking of freaking out, is everyone else quietly alarmed by how fast the year is flying by? It's almost the end of June and term two! Cue all the Facebook posts counting down the days until Christmas. Please don't tell me exactly how many days it is. I don't want to know. I'm freaking out. 

Well, that's enough freakyness from me. Now I'm freaked out because I don't know how to spell 'freakyness'. Is it freakiness or freakyness? Is it even a word? Who knows? 

I need it a cup of tea and a good lie down after all this freaking out. Later, people!  

Linking up for I Must Confess

Linking up again for  Friday Reflections

What is your weirdest phobia? 

Monday, 23 March 2015

Micro Confessions Of A Cry Baby

Welcome to another glorious Monday, the most dreaded day of the week! I have a few little things to get off my chest. The first one is this:

I hate everyone and everything in the whole World EVER. Thank you, PMS. No, FUCK you, PMS! When I say everyone, I mean everyone. Yes, even myself. ESPECIALLY myself!

Why? Because I'm a big cry baby sook who's too scared to go to the dentist. On Thursday, one of my bottom teeth broke. I have to go and have it fixed this morning. I'm dreading it. As you are reading this I'm probably trapped in that descending chair, the ominous sound of the drill reverberating through my skull. SAVE ME!

Or slap me in the face and tell me to get on with it like a grown up!

I just arrived home from wandering around the shops with Mr 11 for a few hours. While there, I spotted Michelle Bridges signing books. I felt like punching her, but have you seen the biceps on that woman? Look, I have nothing against Michelle Bridges, really. I even have one of her books and a couple of her DVDs. I just feel like punching everyone lately.

On Monday week Mickey Blue Eyes has to have another knee operation. For those of you who don't know, he injured his knee playing soccer some months ago. Surgery was required to place some sort of wire inside to get it moving again. Then came months of physiotherapy.  Now he has to have the wire taken back out. Fun times.

Additionally, school holidays commence in this same week. So I'll have Mick hobbling around and the kids home from school. AWESOME. Yes, I'm a horrific bitch from PMS Hell at the moment. Deal with it.

I'm also suffering from THIS:

Image from

In fact, this seems to be the story of my life. Can you hear the weepy violin music?

Don't you just hate people who whinge and complain about stuff in their life but never seem to do anything about it? Seriously. I mean, why haven't I just COME OUT OF MY SHELL by now?

I just keep on whinging and whining about wanting alone time but I haven't actually plotted to murder my family as yet. What am I like?

WHAT a whinger. How hard could it be? I could just poison them or something. Surprisingly, my cooking has failed to do so thus far. I mean, it's the quiet ones you've gotta watch, right?

I've never quite understood that expression. Watch doing what exactly? Reading a book? Scrolling through Facebook. Sure, watch me if you want, but it won't be very interesting. Unlike this blog, which is RIVETING. Plus, it might a little creepy. Watching quiet people, that is. We're just being our silent little selves, minding our own business, not saying a word; while you're rudely staring. Who's the weird one now?? Just saying.

Interestingly, when I Googled Little Miss Quiet I discovered that she doesn't exist. There is only a MR Quiet. Meanwhile, there is a Little Miss Chatterbox, Little Miss Sunshine, Little Miss Fun and a Little Miss Giggles.Where is Little Miss Premenstrual And Moody?

A funny thing happened yesterday when I was at my Tafe course. I realised I was stuck to the chair. It transpired that I had chewing gum stuck on my pants. Thankfully it was the same colour as my pants. You have to be grateful for the little things.

I'm just trying to think of as much crap as possible to distract myself from thinking about my visit to the dentist. It sort of works a bit.

My mind will go:

Butterflies. Rainbows. DENTIST!

Cake. Carpenters. DENTIST!

Puppies. Chocolate. DENTIST!

Books. Unicorns. DENTIST!



That's the sound of my Anxiety Monsters laughing their evil, mocking laugh at me.

The stupid thing is, I was never scared of the dentist when I was younger. I had several teeth yanked out before I had braces. I had it done awake in the chair without sedation. What happened to that girl? Why I am a such a head case in middle age? Furthermore, why am boring you with my whining? Because I can, I presume. So ner.

I've decided that I'm definitely coming back as a man. I'm over all the moods and pain. I simply can't wait for the cluster fuck that will be menopause. Coming soon to a psychotic bitch near you.

In other news, I spent the afternoon going over Mr 13's homework and assessments with him earlier. Amongst all his paperwork he had a sheet listing medieval crimes and punishment. Punishments included: The Rack,Water Torture, Rat Torture, Foot Roasting and Burning at the Stake.

These seemed like quite reasonable punishments to me in my pleasantly premenstrual state.

Oh well, that's my cheery little existence at the moment. Upon reflection I'm thinking that I have such an intense dental phobia that I'm considering exposure therapy instead of just turning up for the appointment. But they might think that I'm some crazy person who likes lurking around the dentist waiting rooms while attempting to get used to the idea and the smell and the noise...... Gulps. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Don't you just love my rambling posts? What else can I confess?

Oh, I've lost around 8 kilos so far on Weight Witches.Which isn't much really, considering I've been going for several months. However, I decided at the beginning that I'm happy with losing a small amount of weight and keeping it off long term, rather than a huge amount of weight which I just end up putting back on, plus extra. Because, let's face it, I'll never be a skinny bitch. I love cake too much.

And with that, I can't think of a suitable ending to this clunky post, so I'll just back out of blogger awkwardly the same way I back out of rooms awkwardly. I'm awkward as fuck in person, so I may as well be authentic online as well. Cheers.

Linking up for I Must Confess.

How is Monday treating you?

PS: After getting all worked up in anticipation for my visit to the dentist they have rescheduled my appointment for Wednesday. I'm not sure if this is a reprieve or a further 48 hours of fretting. Sigh.

Monday, 18 February 2013

I Must Confess: My Fears & Phobias

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths today for I Must Confess. Today's topic: My Fears and Phobias.

Truthfully we could be here for a while. I have so many phobias and fears. Deep breathe. Here goes.


I am squeamish. Watching RPA or any of those medical type shows where they show surgery is my idea of hell.  I actually had to be cut open when I had Mr4, while awake, but numb from the waist down. I have NO IDEA how I survived the mere thought of it. Or the two previous natural births I went through as well. Basically it was only down to the fact that I simply had no choice at that point.


I despise them. And, tragically. fear them. I'm usually so quiet and placid, but any sighting of these vile creatures will have me omitting the most blood-curdling, piercing scream. A scream that would wake the dead. Micky Blue Eyes has often commented that I could be hired for horror movies with that afore mentioned scream.


The smell. The chair. You sit down. It slowly whirs backwards. The blood rushes to your head. You are TRAPPED. There is no escape from all those sharp metal objects probing inside your mouth. Meanwhile, you are expected to keep your jaw gaping, cavernously open, therefore making any possibility of taking deep, slow, calming breaths, absolutely impossible. Then, as you start to hyperventilate, that ominous hissing noise of the air hose assaults your senses..EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!!


And anything involving bright shinyness, which I now realise is connected to sensory issues with having Aspergers. This doesn't make it any less scary though.  In particular,when entering Target, I break into a cold sweat. Fluorescent lights bouncing off the white, shiny floors. Their theme song warbling away about being happy is seriously not the case for me. I am not happy at all. Naturally, being a bonafide bogan, Target is as upmarket as I get when shopping, so I am forced to go in there on a regular basis. Hold me.


As a girl I was always terrified of stepping onto the escalator at the shops. This fear still hasn't quite left me. It's a heights thing. The further up I am, the more I fear it. Just as well a trip up to the top off the Eiffel Tower is never likely to be on this bogan's horizon.  Ditto, a Harbour Bridge climb is never going to be on my bucket list. It's pretty high up on my fuck it list, as the joke goes, however.


There was a time when we were having fertility treatments which involved me being jabbed on a daily basis, so you'd think I'd have completely discarded this nasty little phobia. Wrong. The thought of having to have a routine blood test (eeek, two of my phobias at once - blood and needles) has me hiding in a corner in a foetal position.


Or, you know, any speaking really. I am not a woman of many words.  (Well, except perhaps on this blog, where I seem to have no problem with boring the pants off anyone who doesn't click away. You're welcome.) My aversion to the old verbal diarrhoea becomes even more pronounced when it involves a large group.  Luckily, I have managed to organise my life so that the odds of this happening are largely nil. To do this I simply have no career and minimal human contact. Seems to work.


As in, putting my whole face underneath it. And no, I can't swim, thanks for asking.  This is why I'm also not fond of boats as they usually are on top of said water.

I'm sure I could think of more fears where these came from, but I'm too jittery presently. I keep having this recurring vision of being in a dentists chair, on a cliff top with water gushing below and cockroaches crawling on me while the dentist tries to give me a needle and...holy shit...I just wrote a horror story! *faints*

What are your fears and phobias? Have you ever managed to overcome any?