Got something that you enjoyed as a kid that, for whatever reason, freaks you out now? I have a strange phobia of ice skating. I used to love ice skating as a kid. My mom enrolled me in a “learn to skate” program when I was a little wee one. Loved it! For several years in the winter I’d go skating every Saturday, and I was always proud of my brand new skates when I got them.
But now?.. shudder
I don’t know when this happened, but one day a logically concluded that if I fell and someone skated over my hand, my fingers would be chopped off! :eek: I used to think this was a “silly and irrational” fear. For years, this irrational fear made me go pale at the thought of ice skating.
Eventually it was proven true to me! :eek: :eek: I’d been hit in the head in a martial arts class and had to go to the hospital to be sure I was okay. The kid waiting next to me was a little, 5 year old girl who had been ice skating. She had fallen one the ice and a larger kid had run over her fingers slicing one seriously and practically severing two others. …feeling woozy
She was very brave and when a surgeon was inspecting the damage asked, “Are you going to have to cut them off?” The surgeon said, “Well, this one can probably be fixed. We’ll try to fix the other, but I’m afraid that, yeah, that one will probably have to come off.”
woozy wobbling
So… anyone have a childhood delight that became an adult fright?
You know those lawn sprinklers that you attach to a garden hose and jab a stake into the grass? When I was a kid, one fun summer activity would be to throw said sprinkler high into the air, then watch it fall with a KER-CHHUNK! into the lawn.
Climbing trees. I look at the trees I climbed with a kid and think it’s a wonder I got through childhood without breaking my spine. I’d fall, too! I fell a good distance, at least twice, and just got back up and started climbing again. My skeletal system must have been made of rubber.
And, no, I’m not being fooled by the fact that the trees grew in the meantime. Trees grow by sprounting new growth at ends of branches, but the branches don’t grow any higher off the ground. I knew each tree like the rooms of our house, and had my favorite limbs for hanging out to read books, for swinging (!), for watching for the school bus, etc. They were just as high then as they are today. shakes head in wonderment
These days I actually get a bit nervous at heights. I can only guess that it’s common sense, kicking in after a ~15 year delay.
Heights; I have an inherited late-onset vertigo and I have panic attacks when I climb high things that are unsecured (trees, big rocks in Yosemite, etc.)
I used to to that. We had a staircase of 11 steps, and I was so rpoud of myself when I was able to leap down from the 9th. I never had the nerve to jump from the top, but only because I didn’t think I could travel laterally enough to clear all the stairs, but not too far so as to smash my face where the ceiling came down.
I’m another one for the climbing trees thing. I recently saw a tree that I used to climb when I was a kid, and I was stunned at the idiocy of my younger self. That sucker was high, and I went as far up as I possibly could - I remember sticking my head out above the leaves and checking out the amazing view of the city. It made my palms tingle just looking at the tree.
I managed to smack my forehead on the part where the ceiling comes down while jumping down the stairs on my ninth birthday. It hurts as much as you might have imagined. Thankfully I have a rock hard head and didn’t do any physical damage.
My former landlord saw to it that his best friend’s son is now afraid to play soccer, a sport he used to love. They (Former Landlord, His Best Friend and Boy) were kicking the ball around the back yard. Former Landlord kicked with a mighty blow to the ball, the ball flew through the air, hit Boy in the forehead and knocked him right of his feet like a wrestler who’d been clotheslined by Hulk Hogan.
Boy sat up with an imprint of the ball’s hexagon pattern swelling up on his face. It didn’t help that both Former Landlord and Best Friend found the imprint on boy’s head to be so knee-slappin’ funny that they couldn’t stand up for lauging so hard and were doubled over in hysterics.
That was ten years ago. And Boy, now finishing up highschool, is still affraid to play soccer.
When I was younger ventriloquists and the dummies were awesome. But now that I’m older they creep me out. I think I’ve seen too many TV episodes or movies dealing with psychotic ventriloquists who can’t seperate themselves from their dummies to ever look at one the same way again (I’m looking at you, Anthony Hopkins in “Magic”).
Bugs. I didn’t use to particularly mind them as a kid but now, at 22, some of them – particularly hive insects like wasps, ants, termites, etc – freak me the hell out. Just typing about them right now made me tense up and have a chill run down my spine. Alone or in small groups, they aren’t a big deal but if I see them in force or I run across a conspicuous nest of theirs, I go into fight or flight mode.
Also, skin problems like hives, mumps, shingles, severe acne, etc. Something about them just makes me queasy and very uneasy. Just the mention of most of them is enough to make me break out myself. GAH. I just got another chill down my spine.
I played soccer for about 13 years and had more than one mishap like this. I only stopped playing when I blew out my knee. My surgeon said I could continue to play (after extensive surgery and only if I wore this huge, custom fit knee brace) but suddenly reason set in and it was no more soccer. So for soccer, that was my “scary now” moment. I decided I preferred it when my knees bend in the proper direction.
Flying never used to bother me but sometime during the past ten years, I decided I didn’t like it all that much anymore. On a related note, add me to the fear of heights gang.
I remember the days of “Oh, look a big toad!” Scoop it up play with it a bit.
Note: I was a humane child and never hurt the little toads, we would just put them in my Fisher Price Castle or in my Millenium Falcon or we would build it a cool apartment for it out of cardboard, with windows and a pool… If the toad started looking like it was distressed we would put it back where we found it. Though I’m sure none of the toad particularly enjoyed playing the part of the Star Wars bad guy, but none over got hurt or ended up dead.
I’m not afraid of critters these days, but gone is the glee of “Look, a froggy!” and the desire to catch it. Not at all phobic though.
Not like the idea of getting my fingers cut off by ice skates.
Riding a bike. When I was a kid, I rode my bike all over without ever worrying about falling off or getting hit by a car or crashing. Nowadays, I can hardly ride in a bike lane without being petrified by fear. It’s a little better on dedicated bike trails, but even there I’m afraid something will go wrong and I’ll take a bad spill. This wouldn’t bother me so much except that I just got a new bike this summer so that I could go on rides with my younger daughter, to encourage her to stay active. It hasn’t worked so well, obviously.
Doc: “Like nothing you have ever experienced in your young life. You will wish you were dead. Oh, BTW, do you like your middle finger or your ring finger more?”
LOL, actually, I presented the abridged version. In all honesty he actually was quite reassuring while being honest. He sounded very warm gentle and even I was believing him when he said they were going to try really hard to fix the really damaged finger, even though it didn’t look good. I swear, if not for his gentle tone, I probably would have passed out from overhearing the conversation behind that curtain.
And when the little girl had asked if they’d have to cut off her fingers, she’d said it more as a statement, like she already knew and had resigned herself to the fact that she’d lose twofingers. She was so incredibly brave.
Meanwhile I was fixing to throw up. The skates-lobbing-off fingers thing is such a developed phobia that was seriously about to keel over in a faint at the reality of it behind the curtian next to me.
Carnival rides. I am still not afraid of going fast or upside down or in circles, but the thought of getting in a contraption at a carnival is scary. I see that people have died in recent years and so the thought scares me. Even though they look really fun.
Oh, I agree with you there. I like the rides that lfing me around all over the place, and my favourite ride when I was a kid was [url=“http://www.stb.org/images/carnival/ride-zipr.jpg”}the zipper. LOVED it. Sometimes it’s like you’re going to belly-flop onto the pavement and then it shoots you back up again!
Then one day as an adult. I “inspected” the door. The only thing that keeps you in the cage was a little, steel doorknob. And on some of these older rides the doors no long fit perfectly quare and in line with the cage doorframe as they preseumably did when they were first built.
The only thing keeping me safely in the cage was barely 1/16" of steel. Just a little, wee bit of the latch-bolt-thing from the doorknob, was actually meeting up with the strike-collar-doorframe-thing. I was thinking that if the cage rattled around enough, it could actually slip out and I’d be belly-flopping onto the pavement for real.
It took all the fun out of it. As a kid I always used to think “Well, they wouldn’t operate this ride if it wasn’t safe.” Now I think, “Do they inspect each doorknob that carefully?” sigh
