Full Out Irrational

I have this little problem, and I've always thought of it as a little problem, until last night. I firmly believe that everyone is afraid of something, whether they chose to admit it or not. I've always acknowledged my fears, though tried to disguise some of them as they are a little embarrassing and of course, that's the one I have to talk about.

Yesterday was a tizzy. There was this certain buzzing anxious energy in the air clear across the country as we all braced for the "Deadly Tornado Outbreak." I'll admit that weather this year has been chaotic, but once again we were built up for little more than a few strong thunderstorms (at least in our area)*. So, perhaps it was my heightened sense of anxiety from watching 10 solid hours of weather coverage predicting some of the worst weather we've ever seen as I reexamined our renter's insurance decisions and wondered if it was too late to call and change the policy, perhaps it was the emotional chaos that has been my life over the past several months that has me overly sensitive to my phobias, or perhaps it's just getting worse.

You see, I have a fear of all things with wings. I'm not talking fear of bees or wasps, or even birds, but rather ALL THINGS WITH WINGS, especially (brace for the crazy...) butterflies and moths. I don't particularly know what it is but they completely freak me out. I mentioned the weather earlier, because with all of the threats, in true Jefferson county fashion, we, along with all of our cigarette stenched, beer toting, toothless neighbors, stood barefoot in the street watching the clouds converge overhead and amass into the "wall cloud" that would torment south county and city, while our front door stood wide open. So, it should have been no surprise that as I sat awake at midnight, self-loathing the food choices I'd made and trying to determine if I had the strength for one more workout, that I'd see a large winged insect join me in the living room. As it flitted toward the lamp, I was completely gripped with a debilitating fear. I was caught in the place of how crazy is it to wake up my husband in the middle of the night to kill a harmless bug, there is no way I can possibly think about sleeping with this menace wreaking havoc in my home, and I'm going to have to get close to this thing if I'm going to kill it. So, naturally, I did the only logical thing there was to do...and tried to lock myself in the bathroom. EXCEPT I apparently had lost sight of it for a moment and he beat me in there. So, there I was in the smallest room of the house, with my worst fear staring me in the face, I decided that I'd have to muster the courage to kill it, and ran out of the room to find something sufficient for the job. Moments later, I returned with a notebook, shaking like a scared chihuahua with tears streaming down my face and soliciting the power of the Holy Spirit to help me kill this thing, I finally mustered the courage to do it, scooped up the remains with some toilet paper and flushed the toilet 3 times just to make sure it was gone. As I caught sight of my tear stained face in the mirror, I realized "There is something wrong with me." Although this realization quickly faded as I surrendered to the physical fatigue and went to bed.

This event would largely have been erased from my conscious memory, had I not faced another very similar situation just moments ago. A small moth, no larger than a dime, somehow found it's way into my kitchen. Perhaps it had been camping out somewhere since last night waiting to toy with my emotions for killing his buddy, or perhaps he squeezed in through one of our ill fitting screens. At any rate, as I came into the kitchen to make my daily shake, he fluttered up from the sink. Completely paralyzed by fear once again, I did the only thing I could think to do and tried to dump water on him. They can't fly with wet wings, right?! That's what the fairies in Tinkerbell say anyway! Well, let me tell you, those fairies are dirty, rotten, little liars!! I must have dumped a full cup of water on that pest and he sat very still, so I thought I was safe to squash him with the nearby coffee mug and carefully wash his remains down the running garbage disposal (don't judge me, I told you I was irrational and I have fears of them coming back to life and having it out for me, for trying to kill them. I gotta make sure they're dead). BUT as I approached him with the mug he took off flying right towards my face! With flailing arms I shooed him away, not sure where he got off to and as I anxiously flinch at every hint of movement I see in my home, I realize, it might be time to seek help...

*My heart truly goes out to all of the families across the country who have faced the devastating weather over the past several weeks, especially those in Joplin, MO and in no way mean to minimize their devastation by ridiculing the meteorologists in our area who overplay weather fears.