Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics. After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:
Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.
Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.
Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World
For this week’s topic, Denise chose: Write about facing a fear — one we’ve faced, one we’ve yet to face, etc.
Every time I fly the friendly skies, I’m facing my fear of heights. It’s rather ridiculous. I blogged in the past regarding knocking on the outside of a plane before I board it (it’s a superstitious thing), and if my knuckles don’t touch aluminum, I have a feeling of dread for most of the plane ride. I could choose another means of transportation to get to where I need to go, but let’s face it: it’s the fastest. I pray the entire time, read a magazine or book to take my mind off of my fears, and close the window blind so I won’t have to see the expansive sky. I know, I’m probably missing out on some fantastic scenery out there.
A fear I fear I’ll never get over: my fear of needles. It took four nurses and my mother to pin me down when I was six. I don’t even know what the shot was for, nor did I care. All I cared about was the needle. I am not violent when getting prickled with a needle now, but I’m still terrified. I even get hives. Both pregnancies I knew it was necessary. My babies are important, and so I closed my eyes and did the best I could, but this is the primary reason I never had an epidural with either birth. Not because I wanted to tough it out and deliver them naturally (although I do feel like a bad ass now, looking back) or because I shun using medicine. It was because of the fear of having a needle in my back for an epidural. The shunt in my hand was more than enough for me.
My husband donates blood. He recently discovered that his blood has helped save seventeen lives. Hearing that makes me wish I could get over this stupid fear, because I’d love to give blood, too. Apparently, I have the universal blood type. Imagine how many people I could help, but the thought of having an excessive amount of blood drawn from me makes me physically ill. Just hearing him describe the procedures make my stomach churn, and I actually feel faint. I know, I’m a big wimp! I have no idea how to get over this horrific fear!
What about you? What are you afraid of? Or, do you have a fear you’ve overcome? If so, how did you do it?