A brief look at the insanity of irrational fears as a child.
|You know, as a kid, I never needed more reason to be afraid. It seems cruel of people to tell me random stories of death, especially ones that occur in everyday life, but usually don't happen. Such as the notion that a pimple could kill you. If popped just right and close enough to your brain, the pus could go back into your face and somehow penetrate your skull and cause you to die. It never occurred to me the unlikeliness of these so called accidents or the fact that you never hear people dying of these things even though people pop their pimples all the time. The only thought in my mind for FIVE STRAIGHT MONTHS is that IT COULD HAPPEN! So I avoid even touching my zits like the effing plague and pray to God I don't smack my head in my sleep for fear of sending the deadly pus to my brain. Who the hell does this to a kid? Much less a borderline hypochondriac. For God's sake, I used to be paranoid that my skin was gonna rot off cause I thought I felt my back peeling when I scratched it and felt dead skin. Another contribution to the paranoia in my brain from one of my classmates who said a spider bite could cause your skin to rot and kill you if bitten by a spider WHO DOESN'T EVEN LIVE IN OUR FREAKIN AREA! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT! DON'T YOU KNOW! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT THIS DOES TO ME! I FLIP THE FUCK OUT!|