Not sure why I'm revisiting horrors from my childhood lately, but I am, so obviously I have to share with the internet. Actually, this one I thought I'd already shared, but I didn't see it anywhere on the blog, except in passing. An Adventurous Kate post I recently found made me think I should try something similar soon....So let's delve into the twisted world of irrational fears, shall we?
I changed my mind. It's not irrational. It's a completely rational fear. I mean, come on! They're obviously all plotting against me.
I have a fear of fish. Small fish. Especially small black fish. They're evil and I hate them and they need to go away.
Other fish make me uneasy, but it's the little black ones that I watch closely and avoid at all costs. I thought that as a grown woman I had outgrown this fear, until several months back when I walked into our downstairs bathroom (where we have a big fishtank [yes, we're that awesome]) when no one else was home. As I approached the tank, an Evil Little Black Fish jumped out at me. I froze. My breath caught, my heart was racing, my hands we shaking. I had flashbacks to my childhood and the original Evil Little Black Fishies. I was completely traumatized (retraumatized? Is there such a thing?). After a minute or two, I was able to rationally grab the fish with a tissue and throw him back in the tank. But only because I didn't want to explain to my family why I let one of the fish die on the floor.
See, when I was really little, 5 years old little, my cousin Leah's family had these little black fish in a tank at the end of their hall. Leah was a baby and her bassinet was across from the fishtank, probably a good three feet away. So one day, and I remember this vividly, one of the Evil Little Black Fishies jumped out of the tank, across the hall, and into Leah's bassinet while she was in it! Evil Fishy....
Not really a scarring experience, you say? Well, another time, I was walking by the tank and....and....*deep breath* an Evil Little Black Fishie jumped out of the tank. At me. And it....it went down my pants. I freaked out. I started yelling and ripping my pants off. It took a while to calm me down. I remember this event clearly, I was so traumatized. My mom says that for months after I would freak out if we were around fish. That sometimes we'd by driving down the highway, me in my carseat, and I'd just start stripping and yelling about the fishies.
So, after that incident in the bathroom a few months ago, I'm obviously not over this fear of the Evil Little Black Fishies. And I've tried! I've got a little black and white fish in my own little tank. It's not so scary because he's got some white to him. And my daddy does all the tank cleaning stuff. But the rest of them? Evil Little Black Fishies. They all wanna kill me.
Any fears in your mind, rational or otherwise?