I fear the straight pins that come in dress shirts. I’m not afraid of shirts or straight pins seperately, but put them together and I break out in a cold sweat. I have a horrible fear that I will miss a pin, and lose an eye.
Anastasaeon I have never run into another “balloon-o-phobe” like me. Neat!
I don’t like being scared by unexpected noises, or people jumping out at me. Hence I don’t dig haunted houses, gun salutes at memorial services, glaucoma tests…
Balloons, to me, always have this vibe about them that they are going to emit a loud noise at ANY second without ANY warning. Scares the crap out of me to think about it - enough that I get the shakes around balloons.
I remember when I was in 2nd grade, the last day of school, and we were doing some “fun” relay races. One part of the race involved running to the other side of the room and sitting on a balloon to make it pop. I BAWLED about it and got scolded by the teacher and picked on by the other kids. Of course, I ruined the race 
I have tried my darndest to ignore balloons anymore, and “suck it up” when I’m around them - but in my mind, little kids + balloons = ineviatable popping…so I still get scared.
I used to be afraid of fireworks. Screaming and crying every 4th of July, my whole life (same reason as the balloons, pretty much). When I was 18 I was working at the local outdoor music venue where they have fireworks. I had to drive a golf cart up to an area of the park near where the fireworks were being shot off. I did it - and where I was, the fireworks were RAINING down just above my head. It was wicked scary.
But from then on, I wasn’t afraid anymore. Now I can enjoy them but I still feel kind of melancholy about the 4th, having missed all those opportunities to enjoy it.
water, specifically putting my face under it. It’s not so much a fear of drowning (I get freaked out when bobbing for apples and such.) When I was a little kid, I refused to learn to swim because of this fear. My mom sent me to swimming classes and the teacher would come up behind me when I wasn’t paying attention and, in order to conquer my fear, would dunk me under the water. I never elarned to do the things i was supposed to (like blow out through your nose) so I’d come up coughing and spluttering and crying.
Then one day I flat-out refused to go to class. I held onto the car and screamed bloody murder. I insisted that my swimming teacher was trying to kill me because I knew “I’m afraid to swim” wasn’t going to fly and I thought maybe if she thought I was in some actual danger (aside from drowning) that she wouldn’t make me go. She ended up not making me because I screamed until swim class was over and did the exact same thing the following week. My younger sister still cites this as proof when she says, “my sister is crazy.”
also, these go along with other neuroses, but I have a horrible fear of liquid calories, especially regular soda. While I was at school, this fear was so bad and intense that I would only get my soda from one fountain in the dining hall (I’m a diet pepsi* addict) because it was the only one I was sure was diet. The other ones had a different mixture of carbonated water/syrup (with a higher concentration of syrup) so they tasted sugary. I got my soda from one of the other fountains ONCE and ended up in the bathroom washing my mouth out and crying. I even fear coffee (plain, black) because it seems like it should have more calories than it does.
By now, I’ve suppressed most of my food- and weight-related fears to the point where I can deal with them, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle liquid calories.
*yes, I’m aware that diet pepsi has 3-5 calories per serving. For some reason, that doesn’t bother me.
Centipedes. It’s really weird because I worked for a while as an archaeologist. If you’re digging in the dirt, creepy crawlies are just part of the job. Hell, we used to throw centipedes and worms at each other if there were two of us in a pit (they catapult nicely off the tip of a trowel). But now that I no longer work in archaeology, centipedes really gross me out to the point that, if he’s there, my husband has to kill them.
Hamsters cut off the rest of my post. What I meant to tack on there was that centipedes scare me to the point that I scream like a little girl when I see them (I am a girl - just not little). And if I see one before going to bed, I can’t sleep for a while because I’m convinced that one will drop on my face or something.
A few times my wife and I have driven at night in areas where each side of the road is surrounded by trees. A perfect place for punks to hid from the law, and at night, jump out and attack passers by. Now my wife tells me that we’re driving way to fast were anybody to actually try anything, which of course, nobody will and I’m just being silly. Of course, I know it’s a possibility that they could push a log or some other blockade in the road, causing me to stop the car, then they could attack and rob us.
Oh, and at night, if I can’t remember if I locked the doors and I hear noises, even though I know our cat is in the front room or kitchen, if I hear noises while laying in bed, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if I were to see shadows of people snooping around. The only thing that keeps me from getting up to patrol the place every 5 minutes, apart from my being tired, is that I’m sure that my dog (well, one of them) who’s tied at the foot of my bed, would start barking if there actually was an intruder. But I still worry slightly.
I had a centipede drop on my face at my brother’s house. Not a happy camper (me and the centipede).
I’m afraid of stinging insects like wasps and to a lesser extent, bees. Bees, at least, DIE when they sting you. 
I cry and get shaky until the wasp is gone, and they like to hide from the sun between our front and screen doors. Of course, the kitten is trying like hell to EAT said wasp, while I’m freaking out.
Y’know the ‘sound’ that is made when after eating ice cream on a wooden stick…the sound of teeth on wood.
It sends shivers right up my spine. (Licking envelopes shut does it too.)
In an elevator I cannot take my keys out of my pocket or purse. If I were to hold my keys (which I’ve just used to open my mailbox so it would seem natural just to hang onto them for the brief ride up to my floor) in my hand I would surely drop them down the elvator shaft. And what could be worse than that?
I cannot walk down a flight of stairs without believing that no, this will be the time that I fall down the stairs and break all four of my front teeth.
Ok, this is sorta weird I guess…I’m not at all afraid of bees or wasps, but their nests freak me out. If I see a nest overhead I get out of the way pretty quick. It’s not because I’m afraid of being stung, either…it’s just something about the shape of it. Maybe it’s because once when I was a kid, I saw a big, creepy abandoned hornet’s nest in a forest, and it kind of looked like a face. I don’t think that helped.
High places and deep water. Put me on one a them bridges where you can see through what you’re standing on and I will seriously freak the fuck out on you.
Back around 1980, when cults were the big bugaboo, the meme was that “they can get anyone…anyone.” I assumed it would only be a matter of time before they got me. In 1982, at age 14, I gave an obnoxious airport Hare Krishna $20. My last $20. Just so he’d shut up and not try to drag me off in a sack. Then I had to beg a ride back to school because I couldn’t pay for the bus ticket.
More recently, I obsess that I will fall victim to a torture killer.
I blame the media. Fuckers.
I’ve been bit 3 times by spiders, but still have no fear of them. So that’s kind of an irrational non-fear. However, I have never been harmed by a monkey, but I don’t want to be anywhere near one. I’d probably faint, if one touched me with it’s weird little hands.
No, I’ve never seen that movie. But I thought of another one.
I am afraid that I am going to jump off a high building. No shit.
The reason for this is because when I was younger and used to go to water parks they would inevitably have one of those high dive type of things that I would have to go off of, and as soon as I got up there I would freeze and freak out. But I couldn’t be one of those pussy kids that got to the top and froze and had to backwards walk back down. So when I got to the top I would start this weird internal-chanting type thing where I would say to myself “Just jump just jump just jump just jump” and I would repeat it to myself all the way down, splash, mantra effective.
But the little “just jump” voice never got out of my head. So my instinct when I get to the top of something tall is that I am trying to overcome some fear of tall places and then the voice starts with the “just jump just jump” and I’m afraid I’ll stop telling myself not to and just jump off of a tall building.
-foxy
I walk a narrow line of where I’m supposed to be and when I’m supposed to be there. If I deviate from this narrow line, I will fall into the Abyss–I’ll be lost forever. No one will ever see me again.
My parents house has a crawl space accessible from the basement. As kids we called it “The black hole”. It was dank and had all sorts of creepy critters (I imagined) in it. Being alone in the basement freaked me out.
I also hate looking out the window in flight and seeing the wings on a plane bounce up and down when there’s a bit of turbulence. Rationally, I realize the wings are supposed to bounce, but I’d prefer they didn’t. It’s only a matter of time before a wing tears off right in front of me.
Optical illusions and escalators. Can’t look at 'em and can’t make myself get on 'em, respectively. I don’t even have a good reason why.
Heights, especially extremely tall bridges or cliff edges. Small enclosed in spaces, especially ones where getting stuck would be a possibility. Spelunking and bungie jumping are not in my future.
Wow! This is my fear as well. (Except it’s my pants pocket.) I have to open the security door with my key, and then I’ll return the keys to my pocket because I’m fearful of losing the keys down the shaft.
Now mind you, I actually did drop my keys once when I was getting on an elevalor, and watched in terror as they fell from my hand, headed downward and . . . . . hit the floor, of course. Having nothing happen just reinforced the fear that the next time I’ll be unlucky.
I’m afraid of my own shadow. He’s always there, watching me…and whenever I----AAAAAARRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! THERE HE IS!!! OH JESUS!!! GOD AND BABY JESUS!!!