I guess it's normal to have some sort of phobia. I find that there's very few things that I am phobic about. Snakes don't bother me at all. Neither do spiders. I mean, I don't want to cuddle up with either of them, but I can handle it if they are close to me. I can hold a snake and it doesn't bother me. In fact, I find myself mildly intrigued by snakes and lizards and other slimy, scaly things. I once screamed at a bunch of Cub Scouts for killing a frog. Yeah--I'm that girl. I'm a little psycho about animals.
But I do have a fear of one thing that is pretty much crippling. Like flip-out-and-make-a-giant-jackass-of-myself upsetting for me. Roaches. I think it bothers me most because roaches can't really hurt you, so I know that the fear is somewhat irrational. They don't bite or sting or suck your blood or anything that would hurt. But I am absolutely terrified of them.
Growing up, I lived in an area where you just didn't have roaches unless you were really, really, really dirty. I don't remember ever even seeing a roach or knowing what they looked like until I moved to my current location. My new region of the country, however, is rampant with them. It doesn't matter how clean you are, the bigger, flying variety WILL get into your house. They have various names: water bug, Palmetto bug, whatever. They are roaches. I've literally seen them as big as almost three inches long. They are hideous. And they fly--THEY FLY!!!!
I've written several FB notes about this subject. I'm convinced that I emit a pheromone that attracts the stupid things. They KNOW that I am terrified of them. They KNOW that I am afraid to even kill them because I can't stand the hideous crunch they make when you step on them and GOD FORBID you don't get them just right, because they WILL keep moving after you've stomped them a couple of times (hearing that CRUNCH EACH TIME).
The first argument I ever got into with my husband was over a roach. There was one in the bathroom (trying to attack me), and the hubby was at his brother's. I called him to come save the day so I could get ready for work, and he laughed at me. HE LAUGHED AT ME!!!!!! I hung up the phone on him and had to handle the crisis myself. I used the plunger and suction-cupped the stupid thing to the counter top. No exaggaration--ten hours later, he was still alive!!!! Trapped under a bathroom plunger with no oxygen for TEN HOURS. And he was still alive.
Here are other occasions when I was attacked:
1. On the phone with the bestie as a teen when one flies across the room at me.
2. In my bed reading as a teen one night when one crawled INTO MY BED, trying to steal my book from me.
3. Out with a friend and her grandmother one night, sitting at a patio table, when one flew across the sky and landed ON MY LIP!!! I think it was trying to rip my face off...I'm not sure.
4. Giving my two children a bath one night when one snuck up from behind and tried to take me out.
5. Multiple occasions when I have taken out my husband, half of the patio furniture, a friend, and possibly a child or two trying to get away from one attacking me on our porch.
If they get on me, you're going to see flailing. It's certain. If they're on my clothes, the clothes are coming off. Like, I don't care where I am--I am stripping.....No, seriously.... There's going to be a lot of screaming, hyperventilating, and possibly some tears. If my husband dares to betray that he's fighting back laughter or a smile, there's going to be a fight. My kids are probably going to panic because they will think that I've momentarily been possessed by the devil. It's just a bad, very ugly situation.
They're out to get me. It's a plot. I'm convinced it's my hair that they want. They think that if they can get into my rat's nest of an excuse I call hair, they can build an indestructible fortress and take over the world......
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