You should know for future encounters that you mean immersion therapy. Aversion therapy is nearly the opposite; it’s intended to make the patient more uncomfortable with something. Think of the experimental procedure in A Clockwork Orange, but less criminally awful.
Real-life uses include breaking the nail-biting habit by smearing one’s nails with a foul-tasting substance and encouraging addicts to quit drinking/drugs by prescribing medicines that make those experiences unpleasant.
fluiddruid and Jaglavak, thanks for the Jupiter explanations. They were fascinating reads!
Beyond trucks loads, how about being battered by shards of ice from a truck 1/2 mile up…while on a 1-mile long bridge with no shoulder, nowhere to go, and no way to dodge to the wrath of the mini hailstorm. Luckily, I escaped with only a windshield cracked in several places. (And no, varying my speed didn’t help much as the cross wind provided just the right conditions for the tractor-trailer to unload the full glory of its rooftop clad with ice.) Whew!
…not sure who else got hit that day. That was NOT a good day.
Add me to the list of those who were traumatized by E.T. And the movie wasn’t the end of it, of course. There were E.T. dolls, E.T. books, E.T. T-shirts … No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get away from that creepy little alien. He still scares the crap out of me.
When I was in 4th or 5th grade, we had a field day at the end of the school year. One of the contests involved running a certain distance, sitting on a balloon to pop it, then running back. It wasn’t easy for me to pop the balloon, but I managed.
The thought of being confined in a small space underground.
In my younger days, I spent a little time crawling around in the small caves that honeycomb the Texas Hill Country, but I couldn’t do that now. When I see somebody on TV wriggling through a tight spot in a cave, or far away from other people, it really bothers me. I keep imagining being trapped in a cave, my arms pinned at my side, unable to move.
I remember reading about the people on Easter island that have these old ancestrial caves in the rocks they visit occasionally. The passageways are only accessable if you wiggle through, arms out in front of you, having to do odd contortions on the way, like bending near double - backwards.
Oh, me too. Even those typical TV scenes where someone goes in the air shaft or whatever it is, to sneak somewhere, and it’s so small and what if you meet someone coming the opposite way…gah!
I too am totally claustrophic. The other day I was riding in the car with my boyfriend, and suddenly squigged out a little over the thought of being buried up to my head in sand with the tide coming in (I’ve seen it in a few movies) Just the thought of not being able to break free . . .
Also, umm, Catholic churches kinda freak me out. The dark, ornately carved wood; the candles, the life-sized statues and stuff. I always figure the statues are going to come to life and go all demonic.
And I also hate the clowns.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty stubborn and will force myself to continually face the things I fear - torturing my soul beyond belief.
Swimming in the dark ocean. They can see you, but you can’t see them.
This past New Year’s Eve, the power went out in my building at 4:15 EST. It was still daylight. I went upstairs hoping that this blackout would be brief. (They happen occasionally here.) The sun went down around 5:00.
Still with no power at 8:00 and it is pitch black out there - no moonlight, no reflections from the road, nada. High up on the 13th floor that I am, I could see this huge black abyss that was our lightless parking lot and many blocks all around. Every once in a while, a car would drive by to pick somebody up who got fed up with no power and is going to hit the bars.
While watching the cars slice slowly through the unlit lanes of our parking lot, the image of a shark with headlights came to my head. AAAAH! :eek::eek::eek:
We used to swim in the Gulf of Mexico at night a lot, and I never gave it another thought. Swimming in the dark is fun and you usually at least get moonlight. Post 1975 release of Jaws, I never was the same again.
I would sometimes swim at night on occasion, but only in a lake or pool. Call me a wuss.
Okay, I know they’re not real, but the point is they can sneak up on you in the dark. And I can’t swim as fast as I can run. You’re on their turf, so to speak.
Spiderwebs. Ugh. And cobwebs, too. Ever since I can remember, I’ve had this crippling fear of spiderwebs. It makes going outside in summer a pain, as you imagine. Ugh.
Funerals and wakes scare me-I don’t like looking at corpses, and I dislike the whole smells and sounds of wakes-the heavy flower odors, and the older folks who sit around reminiscing about the departed. I also have a weird fear of death-I am afraid that death means you are conscious of everything going on…but you cannot move or speak.:eek:
