Birds, Snakes, Bugs and More: Fears and Phobias

A reluctant admittance by one of the other Buzz summer interns, Aaron Feldstein, led to a lengthy roundtable discussion regarding the deepest fears each of us endure. We were sitting at a table outside, drinking coffee and chatting idly, when a seemingly harmless little bird flew by. Aaron’s eyes immediately flashed with the purest fear known to man, and he instinctively flinched and covered his head, as if in grave danger. We listened as he described his crippling fear of our tiny feathered friends, prompting the rest of us to chime in and share our stories.

Though we were not initially thrilled to divulge our phobias, a little bit of research led us to the realization that we’re not alone - far from it, in fact. As it turns out, some of our more common fears, such as an intrinsic repulsion to snakes or spiders, are shared by a sizable chunk of the population. Arachnophobia, in particular, is shared by upwards of 30 percent of the population! Plus, as anyone who’s had a run-in with any of these creatures can attest to, our fears aren’t wholly irrational.

Life isn’t always sunshine and bunny rabbits. As calm and reasonable as we may fancy ourselves, each and every one of us has an irrational fear that we simply can’t shake. Average, everyday Americans are engaged in silent wars against our phobias - maybe looking down from your second-story balcony gives you the creeps, or perhaps that rat skittering along your fence strikes fear into your very soul. Whatever their specifics may be, fears and phobias unite us together in terror, fueling our nightmares and haunting our thoughts.

Aaron Feldstein: 
 
It started, as many horror stories do, at an IHOP… I was 5 years old and full of energy, but my youthful exuberance must have gotten on the nerves of some of the adults at the table. So, my father grabbed me by the collar and escorted me outside. He knew I just needed to blow off some steam, and challenged me to run around the corner to a nearby dumpster and back in under 20 seconds.

“On your mark, get set, go!” he shouted as I flung myself towards the dumpster. I rounded the corner and zoomed towards the trash, only to be stopped dead in my tracks. A small, scaly creature was standing in my path. With ruffled feathers and a long, open beak, the beast cackled at me ominously while waving his sharp, powerful wings. I stepped left, he followed suit, I stepped right, he mirrored. Then, the beast began to flap his wings and launched toward my innocent face. I sprinted back to my father, terror-stricken and screaming all the while being pecked and prodded incessantly.

Now, 14 years later, I am still affected by the traumatic encounter all those years ago. Ornithophobia haunts me every day of my life. I cannot even enjoy a simple lunch outdoors, I am so scared of the species. The bird remains my greatest foe, from every pigeon to every crow. 

Jordan Miller-Mandel:

Ophidiophobia; a fear of snakes. I only call it a fear because I haven’t figured out a stronger word for my phobia yet. It all started when a nature show came on of Steve Irwin holding a yellow python and all of a sudden the snake went crazy and started biting Steve and the cameraman. That was it - that’s what did me in for a lifetime of fear from snakes.

Whether it be from a garden snake in my front yard or the snake room at the zoo, I can’t be near them or see pictures of them. I shut down, start crying and run as far away as I can. If one comes on a screen in a movie, TV show or computer screen. I immediately shut my eyes and close the browser. It seems irrational I know, a 20-year-old who shudders every time she hears the word snakes and still cries if someone throws a fake snake at her. I think it’s the fact that they can be venomous or non-venomous and they slither around. Many snakes can unhinge their jaws to eat prey (even the thought of that makes me shudder). I have heard one too many horror stories of having snakes as pets, people trying to hold a snake or even tapping their cage to trust them. 

Many times I have tried facing my fears - looking at them intently in their enclosures at the zoo, holding a baby snake at a pet store, and even trying to take a picture with one. Nothing works; I this terrified feeling still washes over me and my body goes into shock mode. To this day I would still rather choose to stare at the meanest animal in the world rather than a snake. 

Sophia Wayne: 
 
It all started with a dream. I had woken up from a deep sleep, and nobody seemed to be in the house, except for me. I got out of bed and as I walked downstairs, I saw not one, but thousands of insects. However, these were not just insects, they were specifically bugs that had shells on them, like cockroaches or June bugs. I looked around my house, and I could not even see an inch of the carpet or wood that covered my floor. Instead, I saw shelled bugs, everywhere, piled on top of each other, all trying to crawl over each other to the top. I kept walking down the stairs until I hit the last step, paused for a second, and continued walking. Immediately when I took my first step onto the insect infested floor, the shelled bugs began to crawl on me, covering me from head to toe. Not only were they crawling on me, but every step I took, there were countless crunches as I dug my feet into the bugs. I suddenly woke up in sweats, and ran downstairs to make sure I was just dreaming.
       
Entomophobia: the fear of insects. That is the closest name to my fear of shelled bugs, but there is no specific name for this. Ever since that dream, I cannot even look at any bug that has a shell without getting the chills and immediately remembering that dream I had when I was a little kid. I still jump and scream every time a cockroach or any other shelled bug comes within in a 20-inch range of me, and there is no getting over this fear. 

Karina Arnold: 

Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope sparked my love for Star Wars and my fear of trash compactors… well, not specifically trash compactors. This movie enlightened me on what sends shivers down my spine and fills me with dread: Cleithrophobia. Cleithrophobia is the phobia of being trapped, locked in, or otherwise unable to leave. The feeling of being stuck or rendered immobile terrifies me. 

When I was in middle school, my dad, brothers and I binge watched Star Wars. We had all the action figures and toys and I had an enormous crush on Han Solo. In this episode, Leia saves her brother Luke with the help of Chewy and Han Solo. As they are escaping the wrath of Darth Vader, they accidentally trap themselves in the Death Star’s trash compactor. The walls start to slowly squish together. With each slow crawl of the walls, I felt myself short of breath, heart pounding, forehead sweating. I jumped off the couch, flung the popcorn bowl and ran outside. In the open air with my arms stretched wide, I immediately felt more at ease. 

My fear explains my obsession for the outdoors. I frequently have to go outside, open a window, or take walks. My roommates nicknamed me “the house dog” because if I don’t go for a walk, I start to pace around the house. On long airplane flights, I pace the rows and stretch to feel less confined, trapped. 

Thinking back to that Star Wars Episode, I still shudder at the thought of Han Solo becoming a Han-sandwich. Small spaces do not scare me in the least; but being physically unable to escape from a small space, is another episode. 

Trevor Schneider:

The Wizard of Oz’s Cowardly Lion, crippled by fear and anxiety, spends much of the narrative’s span in pursuit of a source of courage. Frankly, I find his plight more than a little relatable. Bravery has never been my area of strength - not in my younger years, and most certainly not now. I’ve never been the type of guy to speak my mind or stand up to the bully; for the most part, I live in fear of consequences and reactions, content to keep to myself and stick to the status quo. By far my most significant fear, though, is perhaps my most irrational: heights. In short, I can’t deal with heights. At all. Any window higher than the second story is strictly off limits, and wall-free ledges and rickety bridges are the stuff of my darkest nightmares.

I distinctly remember visiting The Museum of Natural Science on a regular basis throughout my childhood - like any kid, I thought dinosaurs were wicked cool, so their auditorium full of dinosaur bones was a prime destination. The only issue was, of course, that most dinosaurs were considerably larger than 6-year-old Trevor. As I stared up at the towering skeletal behemoths, an arrow of fear struck my tiny heart, and before I knew it, I was on the ground in a fetal position, earning stares and confused glances from annoyed bystanders. Though this experience fueled future instances of terror (including mall Christmas trees, airplanes, and ziplines), it never discouraged me from begging for a museum trip every other week. Heck, maybe there’s a bit of courage in me after all. 

Comment below to share your phobia stories, too.