Phobias

We all have them to some degree. Phobias. Whether it's spiders, or heights, or closed in spaces, or the number 13, chances are good that at some point in your life you are going to have an irrational fear of something. I have a few, and I'm willing to admit it. I try very hard to over come these fears when they raise their ugly heads, but sometimes it's not all that easy. This time of year is sometimes difficult for me because I don't like thunder and lightning. Rain is ok, but the storm part sets me on edge, especially if I'm outside. I have never liked the noises that go with storms, even as a kid. I remember my mom trying to tell me it was the Angels in heaven bowling that made all that noise. I didn't believe it then, but she kept telling me that anyway.

I don't like storms as an adult because I know what havoc they can produce. I was living in Jackson in 1981 when a tornado went through West Bend killing three people. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, my mother was the Disaster Chairman for the West Bend Red Cross chapter, so within an hour after the twister had gone through the family was packed up in the car, headed to West Bend to set up a shelter for all the people whose homes had been destroyed.

In 2005 I received a secondary lightning strike which was incredibly painful and terrifying. My husband and I were in Indianapolis for the Star Wars Celebration III convention. We were done for the day, and I volunteered to go get the car and pick him up because we had bought a bunch of stuff that we didn't want to get wet. It was raining steadily, but at the time wasn't thundering or lightning. The car was two blocks from the convention center and when I went to cross the three intersections leading to the parking lot it REALLY started to pour. And thunder. And lightning. I pressed the button for the walk signal, the lights changed, and I crossed the street. As soon as I got to the other side, I turned and looked from where I had been standing and a bolt of lightning struck the signal light I had just touched and been standing next to. Because there was so much water in the street, the electricity fanned out from the pole, came up through me and out my arm holding the metal umbrella.

It pushed me backwards several steps and scared the crap out of me. I have never run so fast in my life to get to my car. I thank God to this day that there was no traffic coming because I bolted into the street like a blind horse being chased by a wolf. I didn't look; I don't remember taking off, and all I know is that suddenly I was at my car with my arm numb and my hand feeling like there were millions of angry spiders crawling inside of it.

My other phobia is basements. Well, specifically bad basements. I think it has something to do with claustrophobia as I'm not too fond of closed-in spaces or large packed-together crowds. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem except, as I've mentioned before, my husband and I are house hunting. If I don't like the basement, the house is a NO. Especially since the laundry room or my sewing room will probably be down there. My husband is a saint about this, because he doesn't have problems with basements. He's got height issues, and I don't make him live in a loft type house where the upstairs is open to the whole floor plan. Back to basements though. Have you ever noticed in horror movies that the proportion of evil is directly associated with the nastiness of the basement? And why on Earth do people run into the basement, WITH NO EXIT, and think the bad guy won't find them there? Run outside you idiots!!!! Scatter to the four winds!!!!!

As I write this, a thunderstorm is passing overhead and I realize that at some point this spring there's a chance I'll have to take cover in the basement from a bad storm. Talk about your maximum overload of phobia damage.



Blog for the week of April 7th.