(http://offourchests.com/heres-the-thing/#comment-1968) It's kind of long, but it's funny and it sort of creates the set up for what I'm talking about.
All fears essentially amount to a fear of death. No one actually has a fear of heights. We have a fear of falling. It's just that fallophobia sounds like a fear of penises. Claustrophobia is a fear of being crushed... or something to that effect. (What the fuck, am I Freud? Gimme a break.) Fear of spiders? They have venom sometimes, which can kill you. Also, they have 8 legs, which is just pure fucking evil. I mean, EIGHT LEGS? WHAT IS THAT?
Plus they're just icky.
And then there's fear of public speaking, which would seem to disprove my otherwise completely infallible and totally scientific theory. With the exception of late night talk show hosts, no one dies on stage holding a microphone. So maybe I'm wrong. Well, not totally. But I'll have to come back to that.
Fear and I have a funny relationship.
I can remember as a child being afraid of everything. Afraid of the dark. Afraid of heights. Afraid of Mr Ted, the neighbor who would sing What Is Love by Haddaway to me every time he saw me. Afraid of getting beaten up, which wasn't irrational, because it happened enough. As I got older, those fears expanded into a whole new universe of psychotic post-pubescent terror. I learned to be afraid of talking to and reaching out to others. And I was afraid of being alone. Those two things seem to conflict, but ... well, no they conflict. Yet here we are.
I'm no longer scared of the dark. That went away about the time I discovered the joy of chronic masturbation, as I discovered keeping the lights on made it that much more awkward when Mom walked in on me molesting myself to What's Happening re-runs. (See what I did there??) The fear of heights remains, though it's no longer crippling, so I can stand on a foot stool without pissing myself. As for getting beat up, I'm still not looking forward to getting punched in the fucking face, but in my experience when people see a 300 lb redneck with a scowl on his face, they tend not to chase you around with a bat yelling "Faggot."
Most of my fears are manageable now. Except for a few. I'm scared shitless of talking to people. Particularly women. Dudes are a little easier, because honestly if some pencil neck asswipe who watches Family Guy doesn't think you're worth being friends with, who gives a shit? Women though... they give you that look. That look that says "I know you have ass hair and the answer is no."
And it really shouldn't matter. Rationally, one judgmental chick acting like a cunt just because I don't drive a Porche doesn't invalidate me as a person. Nor should it emasculate me in the slightest. But I have to force myself to go up to bat every time, and when I do... I'm 13 again.
Understand. I've done things. I've exposed my bare fat ass to an entire beach full of people with not even a semi-erection. I've climbed a 50 foot wall of solid lava rock and cliff dived into the Pacific Ocean. I once sat through Oprah Winfrey's production of Beloved without killing myself. And on occasion I've asked complete strangers to dance because she was looking cute and I get +8 confidence points when I'm wearing a tie.
So why is it so hard to do the normal things, when the extraordinary isn't all that impossible? It's simple. Because whether you're afraid to stand in front of 20 people and give a speech about a parrot, or just scared to ask that girl with the cute freckles to share a hot dog with you in a crowded movie theater, it all amounts to the same thing. We're all just well and truly frightened of being vulnerable. Deep down inside we know that we're just human and fragile. And if people look at us with our guard down, they might just see us as flawed and breakable as we are. The cracks could show, and maybe we'll fall apart right then and there.
So what was my point? ...I don't really have one. Are you still reading this? I was just kidding earlier-- on that nude beach? I had a magnificent erection. People applauded. Women took pictures next to it making silly faces. Japanese tourists ran in terror speaking slightly out of sync with their lip movements.
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