Double holy freakin’ cow! I had the same aversion. It was paper snowflakes for me - snowflakes are SUPPOSED TO BE SMALL, DAMMIT! I wasn’t really afraid of them, I guess, but I got this weird vertigo-type sensation, like I was spiralling down a rabbit hole or something. I had a friend whose grandfather had a home machine shop, and while visiting one day he showed us his metal lathe. He said that he could make a screw with threads “this big” (holding hands two feet apart). Man, I wanted to fall over and throw up at the same time. I had to call my mom to come and pick me up. Fortunately, this weird reaction got less and less strong as I got older, and such things don’t bother me anymore.
As a child I had recurring nightmares about riding in the family van. In the dream we would start to climb a hill which would become steeper and steeper and steeper until everything loose in the van (including me) would fall to the back door, which would then fall open and I’d be hanging onto the door jamb for dear life. We’d crest the hill and then start descending vertically, speeding out of control. I still get flashbacks when driving in hilly places: I’ve had to white-knuckle it through parts of West Burnside in Portland and a lot of Duluth in particular. I picture the car just tipping, tipping…
I have never liked mirrors in dark rooms, but until I read that I had completely forgotten why. When I was really young one of my older cousins told me about the Bloody Mary thing and it freaked me the hell out. The worst thing was walking into a dark bathroom and glancing at the mirror, once you glance at it you can’t look away until the lights are on because that is exactly when something scary would pop up.
Add me to the dark mirror non-lookers. I even blame that fear for my constant marginal dehydration. If I drink close to the amount of water I am supposed to drink during the day I always have to pee in the middle of the night. And I always have to sneak to the bathroom and I’ll reach my arm around the corner to flip the light on before I even step foot in there. Besides Bloody Mary, I think there was also a “Candyman” movie that was based on the same premise. I never saw it, but how awful are the names Bloody Mary and Candyman??
I also get very agitated if we drive somewhere that is totally flat or has gently rolling hills as far as the eye can see. No trees or corners or water or buildings. I think this developed when I was at WSU in the middle of wheat fields for miles. I can’t really explain it, but it feels like I am trapped and someone (God?) could be watching me and I’d have nowhere to go to hide. Or if I was being chased I could never get away. I don’t know how anyone can stand living in the midwest?
My fly being unzipped. Which causes me to be constantly checking whenever I’m in someone else’s presence. Which results in having a reputation for constantly checking myself to see if my fly is open. Which it never is.
Snopes has a pretty good post on the Bloody Mary in the mirror phenomenon. I would have guessed it went all the way back to the 16th century, but apparently it doesn’t.
Because there’s no place for the big monsters to hide. We can see everything coming, for miles.
Remembered another fear – hubby stole a nice heavy glass from a bar (years ago), and I won’t use it. Even if it’s the only clean glass in the cupboard, I’ll wash another one. I don’t know why I just don’t toss it out.
I don’t know if this is a fear per se - but I have an instinctive revulsion for surfaces with a certain texture. Anything that has lots of tiny, irregular holes in it just fills my soul with utter dread. Honeycomb is similar to what I’m talking about, but it’s more frightening if the holes aren’t in a particular arrangement but just sort of random. The best example of this - in a terrifying context - is a photoshopped picture you can find on Snopes of a woman’s breast with all these little . . . tunnels . . . in it; it’s clearly a fake but it’s supposed to be a picture of infection with some exotic parasite. When I saw that picture and read the story, I realized exactly why I feel such nausea at the site of surfaces with lots of tiny holes - because it seems like horrific worms or bugs or something must be hiding inside. My mother once bought this notebook that had a thick blue cover full of small, irregular little tunnels into the surface. And it made me want to throw up. Ugh!
You’re not alone. Lightbulbs terrify me. My first ever SD post in GQ was seeking a clinical term for the fear of light bulbs. No one could answer me. I don’t suppose you know…
I don’t care for large buildings like skyscrapers. I don’t try to consciously avoid them, but every time I am around them I always feel like either something is going to drop from the top, hit me in the head and kill me or that I might be shot by a sniper from a rooftop. Not that anyone has a real reason to shoot me, but maybe just some crazy person who wants to kill random people might be up there and shoot me. It’s not a HUGE fear, but I know it’s irrational and it makes me uncomfortable around large structures.
This fear is morphed into my other fear, which is falling a very, very long distance. Lately I’ve been jolting from the very edge of sleep with a sensation that I’m falling overboard into dark water. It makes me shudder just to think about it. And don’t ask me to watch National Geographic anymore. It’s just too creepy. I’m ok with tropical settings where the sun is streaming through the water and the fish are kinda cute. But get me to the dark depths where fish are ugly and occasionally light up? I’m a goner.
You mirror-fearers will enjoy this tale. Long ago, when I was in college, when my first husband was still at boyfriend status, he and I spent the night at his mother’s condo while she was away. He got up to go to the bathroom in the night; I awoke and followed, not realizing he hadn’t heard me get up.
I walk in while he’s peeing and in his semi-awake state, scare the ever-livin’ crap out of him. He, in truth, screamed like a little girl. This scared the crap out of me. I was marginally more awake, but completely unnerved by his reaction to my sudden appearance in the doorway. What was wrong with me?? Terrified, and convinced I’d suddenly become a hideous monster (think: that episode in Twilight Zone where the girl awakens after surgery and screams because she still doesn’t look like the hideous malformed monsters crowding around her), I too try to scream.
My hands go to my face. I lean forward, toward the mirror, straining to get a glimpse of my features (by this time I’m convinced have morphed into a gargoyle-face, at the very least) in the extremely dim light. “Wha?? Wha??? WHAAAAA???” I scream, but, in my irrational fear, my throat literally has closed and I can’t get the words out. Which terrifies me even further. What in God’s name have I become???
Boyfriend/husband is still shrieking like a madman. I am *Wha-wha-wha-*ing like an insane idiot. We stand there and scream at each other for what seems like an eternity, but probably wasn’t but five seconds.
We did laugh at this for years afterward, but I will never forget that moment of true, absolute terror.
Sorry, can’t help with that one. I’d be interested if anyone else could find it out, though.
Also, that iceberg picture make me feel sick to the pit of my stomach. Composite photo or not, that was creepy. It’s so huge, it goes down so far, and you know the water underneath it is even deeper. Jeesus Keerist.
Something else I forgot to mention that I get a pretty big wigout from - empty buildings, especially at night. It’s kind of like an offshoot to the “mirror” fear (which I also suffer from to a small degree). I’m terrified that I’ll be walking past a dark, empty building and something monstrous will show up in one of the windows, and just stare down at me…
Though that could probably be traced back to my penchant for survival horror style games like Silent Hill and the like.
I’m another mirror fearer. I’m sure that in the dim light coming through the window at night that my reflection will show my evil looking-glass twin, eyes ablaze, ready to crawl through the mirror to take my place :eek: . I know that this came from some late night horror film I saw on TV as a kid but it doesn’t take away the terror. I consciously avoid looking at the mirrors at night and, if I have to go into the bathroom, make sure the light is on before I step in. Because everyone knows that bright lights scare away the doppelgangers.
Another weird fear I developed as a kid was of vampires. I was sure they would come suck my blood at night and, my kid logic believed, the only way to protect myself was to make sure my blankets were pulled up over my ears or better yet over my head. Covering my neck wasn’t nearly good enough. For some reason, I was convinced that Dracula and his exsanguinating ilk would be repelled by a blanket. I know now that there is no such thing as human bloodsuckers (unless you count lawyers ) but I can’t sleep unless my ears are covered.
My most rational, irrational fear is of falling from a middle height where I will be paralyzed from the neck down. I have no problem if the altitude is enough to turn me into street pizza. I’ve rappelled off cliffs and washed windows on the outside of skyscrapers without problems. But put me on my roof to clean out the gutters or on a ladder to hang Christmas lights and I’m sure that I’m going to wind up like Christopher Reeve. Since I am the only one in the house who can do these things, I literally crawl across the roof. One time my son thought he would help me by holding the ladder steady. As soon as he touched it, I could feel it tremble just the slightest bit. I screamed like some bimbo in a slasher flick and started swearing at him to get his f’ing hands off the f’ing ladder before I broke his f’ing neck! As soon as I got down, I threw up in the bushes. After I calmed down, I apologized to him and explained about my fear. He felt so sorry for me that he offered to take care of the job (he was only 10 at the time). I felt horrible about how nasty I had been and how such a stupid fear could turn me into such an asshole.
) but I can’t sleep unless my ears are covered.