Phobias

October 7, 2010



People love their phobias. Withn the anxiety and the trepidation, there is something that makes us hold on to them.

For example, just now, thinking about really trying to desensitize myself with regard to my arachnophobia, I actually felt kind of … sad. Like I would miss the drama, the attention that I make to myself of this inordinate fear of spiders. I would actually miss the fear?

Or am I just talking myself out of trying to desensitize myself.

I truly am afraid of spiders. No reason, really. No memory of a traumatic event. Maybe it’s a past-life thing. Actually, yes, come to think of it, there is an early memory of being in bed, waking up sleepily, and with every stuffed animal I owned having a sleepover that night. A spider. Small but large to my young eyes (4 year old, maybe? 6?), crawling relentlessly, and rapidly – startlingly – across my bed, and under my bunny rabbit. I could not save my bunny rabbit. Stuffing 12 other beloved toy animals in my two little arms, screaming bloody murder for my other - is my next memory. And my mother, so calm, so comforting. I will always admire mama for her lack of fear and the chivalry of her nestling it into a tissue to set it free outdoors.

Today, they get in my house, they're dead. Sorry. Outside, i avoid you, spider. Inside, you weren't invited and you scare me!

Spiders are always running, rapidly, startlingly, across one’s vision. Often towards me, it seems. Coming right at me. Relentless. Purposeful. Driven. Because it knows I’m afraid of it and is coming to scare me.

I really don’t think they’ll bite me – unless I provoke them, of course, the spiders “are just afraid of you as you are of them” (yeah, right). It’s just that they startle me, and they seem to do it on purpose. "BAH". “I am in front of your face you stupid human and you didn’t see me coming and I might TOUCH you.”. Their tickling touch – ick!

Okay, I’m changing the subject now. Thanks for listening.

Rantings of an aging baby boomer.


Happy Halloween, everyone.

Nice People Rock

Seniors are easily intimidated. There are a lot of people that seniors must deal with that choose to be intimidating instead of helpful. Today I met an example of the most, and the least, helpful personalities whose job is to serve the public.

I accompanied a client to the Title Bureau of a nearby county. Despite the cliche expectations that the BMV will be the bad example, this expectation was put to rest as soon as we walked into the office. "May I help you?" said a woman behind the counter. "There's no line?" I was shocked. She had a smile on her face, and met my client's eyes as she stepped up to her counter. This state employee made my client feel at ease by being friendly and warm, willing to help. Even though it took a good 10 to 12 minutes of standing (I offered to get a chair for my client, she declined), the process of creating new Titles for both her mobile home and her vehicle was made comfortable and easy.

Then we went to the VA office in the same building. The woman who handles all VA benefits requests for that county is known for being ... difficult to work with. She lived up to that expectation. My client, Mrs. C, had called this public service office twice and been told that she could expect a return phone call. When none came, Mrs. C wrote a letter. Still no reply. She was trying to get her spouse's VA Aid and Attendance benefit sent automatically to the bank (for the past 8 months). Since the office was nearby, we dropped in. It was ten minutes to 3. We were told to wait please, that the caseworker was in her office. Indeed, we could hear said person on the telephone, loudly complaining to some unfortunate soul.

Another citizen walked in with a three pm appointment with the caseworker. At 5 minutes to 3, the caseworker walked out to the reception area where we all were waiting patiently, reading the newsletters, making small talk with the receptionist about the weather. "Do you have a very brief question, because I have a three o'clock appointment!" she barked with a sour smile on her face. She was intimidating looking with a long wild shock of gray-streaked hair. When her eyes landed on me, I pointed across the area to my client and said as loudly, "Yes, Mrs. C has a very quick question for you, Ma'am."

Her answer to my client's question about the delay was this: (In a sarcastic tone of voice) "Well the paperwork was only sent in on April 20th. It will take several weeks for it to start going directly to the bank."

Here's where things get neat. I smiled broadly, walked toward where she and my client were standing (with the counter between them), and thanked the woman genuinely for her time. The smile she returned to me broke open her porcelain demeanor. She felt appreciated. She thanked my client for coming in, smiled at her, and changed the atmostphere of the encounter.

As we left, Mrs. C rolled her eyes at me and, when the door shut behind us, said, "Whew; she's something else!" We giggled like schoolgirls leaving the principal's office as we walked to the elevator.

One of my favorite bumper stickers is "Mean People Suck." But, actually, without mean people, we would maybe not appreciate the nice ones as much.

~debra