Phobic

When I’m in company I have an near-constant worry that the person or people I am with are only present because they had nothing better to do. They don’t particularly want to be there, but an alternative was not forthcoming so to avoid absolute boredom they are sat staring at my fat face trying not to glaze over too obviously. Essentially, I consider myself to be roughly comparable to a wordsearch.
There are also pounding thoughts that echo around my cranium when I’m trotting down stairs that I will inadvertently hook one foot behind the other and tumble forward, flapping my arms like Icarus and messily smash my face into the edge of a stair, crunching my teeth into the back of my throat and folding my nose into my head and up towards my eye-sockets. But that’s just me. Aside from these concerns and an entirely sensible fear of spiders I tend to go about my daily plod in a fairly breezy manner, taking care not to step on drain covers and pavement cracks. I am fortunate in this regard.

Phobias interest me. For instance, I know someone who will happily rescue me from eight-legged peril but if a cranefly confusedly drifts through the window (I find it very difficult to imagine them traveling anywhere with any degree of certainty. They are like an old drunk in need of a wee, lurching from one table to another on his way to a mythical toilet) she will run away screaming “eek, a daddy long legs!”.

Incidentally, this is not a name that conjures up an especially fearful image is it. The image is more like…well, a tall bloke with a kid.

She also hates moths, but I can understand that as when you try to brush them off the wall in the direction of the window they cause a huge dusty skid-mark, leaving your wall looking like Tutankhamun has wiped his bum on it. Similarly I have a feeling my Nan might be slightly phobic about butterflies, but I might have dreamed that. I hope I didn’t though, the idea that my subconscious is incapable of doing anything more exciting than attributing feeble dislikes to people that may or may not have them is, quite frankly, depressing.

If you have a spare minute, you may like to go here, a website with a list of pretty much every possible phobia. It is amazing the things people can be scared of. From understandable fears like Ballistophobia (a fear of bullets) to more bizarre fears like Geniophobia (a fear of chins) and Dikephobia (a fear of justice. I believe Michael Barrymore has this one). My favourite is Ideophobia which, brilliantly, is a fear of thought (presumably this phobia is essential to work for The Sun).

Imagine that, a fear of thought.

Actually, don’t, it’s too scary.