One possibility…tho’ remote, is to the left; another to the right (it’s a ship in a storm-tossed sea). The third, the Plains woman meandering about, I could find no picture of…so “Imagine.”
I’ve only discovered recently that there’s an exact term for it. I‘m an anemophobic, meaning: I have an unnatural dread of the wind.
When it howls, I churn internally, to the point, I wonder if I didn’t live at another time and experience something really dreadful associated with the wind.
Perhaps it whipped the flames around me as I was burned at the stake in old Salem; maybe I was lost at sea in a raging storm when the waves licked at the ship and finally devoured it; or I wandered about on the howling Plains, a frontier woman, bereft of family, massacred in an Indian uprising (or I was the Indian woman whose village was destroyed first, by white settlers.)
Whatever happened, it left an indelible mark on me.
According to the article I include here, an Anemophobic probably had something happen in her past that triggers her anxiety (mystifies me, since I recall nothing). Experts say that the brain is a giant sponge that takes all in, filing experiences away for future use. In other words, it never forgets anything…But memories are buried under many layers.
Something could have happened to me, years ago, perhaps when Rhode Island suffered the fury of Hurricane Carol. Our state didn’t recover from that natural disaster for many weeks. I remember my parents taking us kids on a ride down to the ocean where we saw a house floating unnaturally, in a Salt Pond, near Bonnet Shores. It had been blown from its foundations off a hill nearby.
I was only 8 years old, but I knew the scene was hugely tragic. I wondered where the kids were who grew up in that house, and I knew, too: That house had never been there before.
They say hypnotherapy works to correct phobias, but my trying it would only kick on another phobia of mine: Fear of another controlling me (the therapist), so that’s out of the question.
So, I’ll just howl internally whoever the winds wail and wait for them to abate. But I’ve given my family specific instructions: “Don’t bury me on a day when tempests rage. “ After all, that’d be all the more problematic since I’ve specified that my ashes be strewn.
And I wouldn’t want anyone to suffer the blowback.
Here’s the site that explains about Anemophobia.
But now it’s time for you to tell me about your phobia. Maybe you don’t have the name for it (I didn’t know one of mine was anemophobia ’til I researched this post.) That’s just one of the reasons I love doing this blog…I find out many things in the process…The best part? What I don’t find out on my own–my readers tell me.
So share your thoughts at Comments below….”What’s your phobia?” “How does it affect you?” “Did you conquer it?”