I reckon that we all have irrational fears and phobias. For some, it may be a bug busily buzzing around them that sends them dashing about, flapping their arms like someone trying to flag down a helicopter. For others, it may be a spider or mouse that reduces them to a blubbering basket case, balanced on the highest object in a room. For still others, the threats are microscopic monstrosities, tiny germs that the human eye can’t behold, that make them obsessively clean and protect themselves against possible ‘contaminates’. Actually, some of our phobias do make sense, from a survival point of view, such as the fear of potentially poisonous spiders and snakes. But, some of them border on the ridiculous, and have long, really hard to pronounce names.
Such as Coulrophobia, the fear of clowns, Alliumphobia, the fear of garlic, Defecaloesiophobia, the fear of bowel movements, and the one that way too many folks suffer from, Ergophobia, the fear of work. If you know someone who prefers to always stand, there’s a pretty good chance they suffer from Kathisophobia, the fear of sitting down, and, if reading this annoys you, there’s a strong liklihood that you have Sesquipedalophobia, a fear of long words. If you clean constantly, and have been called ‘obsessive compulsive’, maybe you’re really afflicted with Ataxophobia, the fear of untidiness. One phobia that almost all media shares, is Euphobia, the fear of good news, and the curse of all mathematicians, is Octophobia, the fear of the figure 8.
There’s a heap of non-caucasian people who suffer from Leukophobia, the fear of the color white, but nothing’s more devastating than an arborist who gets Dendrophobia, a fear of trees. It’s becoming more and more common to find teachers today, who’ve developed severe Ephebiphobia, the fear of teenagers, and there’s a phobia that millions of men around the world have in common, Pentheraphobia, the fear of mother-in-laws. If someone just won’t look you in the eye, maybe they’re not being rude or shy, perhaps they’re trembling inside with Anablephobia, the fear of looking up. When your child screamed trying to get a picture of them with Santa, there is a strong possibility that they suffered from Pogonophobia, a fear of beards.
Almost everyone suffers from some degree of Athazagoraphobia, the fear of being forgotten, and if you’re terrified at the prospect of having to smell things, you have Osmophobia, the fear of smells. My personal dread is Hormephobia, the irrational and persistent fear of shock. It has been, and still is, a source of great family fun. From wool sock shufflers, to clingy clothing removers, many tears of laughter have flowed from my contortions after being zapped by static electricity. There are those that sneak up on me, zapping an ear, or neck, before shrieking in laughter, and those who share their static volts accidentally, then giggle as I jerk like I’ve been electrocuted. Of course Empress Electra chuckles that I’m a total ‘Wuss’ to let something so ‘little’ bug me (from someone terrified of mice!). I’d use a stuffed mouse to get even, but don’t want to end up a lonely celibate for eternity.