Irrational Fears

My Irrational Fears.


When I was three I wandered off in a supermarket, I turned around and I couldn't see my parents around the huge shelves. I'd been abandoned! For a little while my heart jumped in my chest and my eyes searched frantically, of course a second later her smiling, if not slightly panicked face appeared round the corner and lifted me into the trolley. The panic was over, but for a minute I was scared.

I'm not a huge fan of cats. I have a horrible, irrational fear of them so when one morning I awoke in a friends house to a cat sitting at the bottom of my bed my mind screamed lion and my fight or flight instinct prepared me to run, screaming from the ferocious beast as it prowled hungrily for prey. Then of course "Fluffy" - what a name for such a monster - hopped off the bed in search for a more meager, smaller prey, most likely residing in her food bowl. But for a minute, I was scared.

It's not just cats that terrify me, dangerous though they are. Heights also turn me into a quivering wreck. It's very easy for someone safely on the ground to command gently 'just to jump' and ' not to look down' but that is not the case when you are battling vertigo infinite miles up. As the wind throws you off kilter and you sway alarmingly close to the edge, it's very hard not to peer slowly downwards to certain death on the black foam floor of the playground. Twelve year old you is convinced the thin, frail metal slide will bend and break beneath you. Leaving you in a tangled mess of limbs wishing you never did. But then of course some dare devil behind you, over anxious for their turn, pushes you and you speed down the death defying drop. As soon as you reach the bottom you smile giddily before pushing away the ridiculous desire to slide again. Your feet are now firmly planted on the ground - where hopefully they will remain for all time - but for a minute you were scared.

It is true that we all experience 'The Fear' but we are not all so united in this irrationality than in those few terrifying moments outside exam rooms. Stomachs clenching, sweating and becoming convinced that the last five years of education have been forgotten. What's your name again? What exam is this? Did you have breakfast this morning? Have you ever had breakfast? The important thing is, forgetting these questions and believing, or hoping, that scared as you are the teachers know what they're doing and that the test paper you receive isn't going to be an hour long riddle. It's walking in to the room, taking your seat and reminding yourself that as terrifying as that lion looks, it is just a big kitten!