Some fears are entirely illogical. Like the time that I was fifteen and watched The Blair Witch project for the first time. We were having a most exciting sleep-over, and had snuggled into our sleeping-bags in chairs, all of the lights in the completely empty house killed, and the volume on the television turned up high.
We thought that it would be the coolest thing in the world to watch scary films. Fun, even! Well, I spent the entire time clinging to the hand of the boy next to me. (In my defence, it was his fault for sitting on my right. Duh.) The film ended, leaving all of us terrified. We whispered our wishes that someone would stand up to turn the lights on..... but no-one was brave enough to face all of the rustling in order to do so. A catch 22 in it's finest hour. (I later solved this problem by choosing a house with the lights on a remote the very next time that I moved.)
Unfortunately, the noise blaring from the box had drowned out the noise of the car arriving back. When the door opened suddenly, we all screamed. A very startled adult looked down on the guilty and fantastically innocent faces of a half a dozen teenagers, and decided not to ask. A wise choice.
Even since that day I have been petrified at the thought of something eating me in a dark forest. You'd think that I'd simply control my fear by not putting myself in such situations, but that would just be too easily. A perfectly fine midnight picnic in a forest in Finland on Midsummer's Eve turned into a mad dash for civilisation when I managed to freak out myself, and, thanks to my over-active imagination and describing capabilities, my usually unflappable friend. For some strange reason, though- no-one tends to believe that story.....
Some fears appear to make little sense until you think about them, when you realise that the reasons are entirely strange. For example, I loathe cockroaches.
Now, I think that we'll all agree that the company of cockroaches is not enjoyed by many people. However, one day I had the, interesting, experience of meeting a roach enthusiast. When asked exactly what it was about them that I detested, I realised the the answer was the clicking noise that they make when they scuttle. *shudder*
Some fears, though- are perfectly rational. Almost everyone in the world has at least 1 rational fear. The fear of being eaten by a shark, or wolves. The fear of falling, or crashing, or drowning.
For most of you, it isn't too big of a deal. I mean, yeah- a shark could eat you. You can still live a normal, healthy life without ever visiting aquariums or deep-water fishing charters. I am forced to live with my fear ever day. Forced to look it in the eye and watch as it passes, to make sure that it doesn't turn around to get me. I know that my fear watches me, and I know that I am not yet ready for it. Worst of all, I have to watch my fear pass me by with a cynical smile.
That's because for me, the rational and all-encompassing fear is
Joggers.
