Phobia. To the average person this word doesn’t resonate on a personal level. Sure, everyone has something they’re afraid of or makes them uneasy but for the 5% of people in the United States, that word holds a lot more weight. So much weight in fact, that it has the power to completely drag them under.
For a long time, I denied the fact I had a phobia. I thought it was a common fear that would eventually go away as I grew older. Unfortunately for me, and anyone who’s ever been to the doctor with me, it’s only gotten worse. I have trypanophobia: a phobia of needles.
I’m not alone in this fear, as 10% of the U.S. population today suffers from a form of trypanophobia. Clearly JFK did not suffer a phobia when he said “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
You might be reading this and think, “nobody likes needles.” I would have to agree, but this isn’t just a dislike, it’s an all-encompassing fear. The definition of the word phobia is as follows: an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something. Key word in that definition: irrational.
Though it gives me a stomachache and I don’t particularly enjoy it, I could sit here and write about needles all day. Okay, probably not all day…definitely not all day. The point is, I understand just how irrational my fear is. Besides the occasional horror movie cameo, I know that needles are typically used to better lives. They’ve enabled the medical field to make life-changing advancements. I get that. I also understand that I’m bound to be unhealthier because of my phobia then I would be if I just faced it. People tell me this all the time; it sounds so simple and yet they could never understand.
I have TRIED facing it. On multiple occasions, I have arrived at medical appointments half an hour in advance to simply sit in the car and give myself a pep talk. I feel strong, ready, and I go in. This is where it all goes downhill.
The smell of a doctor’s office alone can instigate the tremors; within minutes of being inside a medical office my body starts to shake. I can feel my pulse in nearly every part of my body and I start to get the cold sweats. It’s literal hell. And this is all before I even see the needle. Once in the waiting room, I can barely talk. My whole body shakes, and I usually look to whomever I’m with for comfort. Seeing that I’m in college, I usually don’t take anyone with me anymore. This lack of comfort has resulted in me throwing up, and in one instance simply leaving.
Other instances where I’ve actually made it to the needle part have resulted in me laying on the examining bench unconscious, blood on the walls. I won’t go into the details. This is what results from a phobia.
And yet sitting here, writing in the safety of my apartment I can confidently say that my fear of needles is completely irrational…though not completely unwarranted at this point. While this might sound very extreme, my phobia is on the less severe end of the spectrum. I have known a girl who suffered acrophobia: the fear of heights. To this day she is so utterly terrified of heights she can’t even climb three steps of a ladder.
An extremely common phobia is glossophobia: the irrational fear of public speaking. This social anxiety disorder plagues as much as 75% of our population, to varying degrees. I’m sure every person knows someone else or has personally suffered from the fear of speaking in front of a large group of people. Most people who suffer this fear don’t have a full-blown phobia, and have an easier time progressively facing it.
So, how do you face your phobia if you have one? My answer: with a lot of time, and even then sometimes you can’t. And that’s okay. Sometimes the best thing you can do is admit you have one.
1. Facing a phobia is not like facing an average fear. If you’re like me, you can walk toward your phobia head held high, and suddenly be on the floor completely lacking control over your emotions or actions. It’s indescribable and it’s complicated.
2. If you think you have a phobia, the first thing to do is accept you have it and that’s it’s a core part of who you are. The next thing to do, don’t let it define you and don’t let it control your life. Even though your phobia might be a part of you, it doesn’t have to define you.
3. Research your fear. Read how other people are learning to face it, and give some of their suggestions a try. If nothing works, keep yourself grounded and stay focused on the fact that you know it’s irrational, but it’s still scary.
People aren’t always going to understand your phobia. They’re going to tell you to get off your high horse and get over it. In these situations the best thing to do is to nod your head and simply let it go. You understand what you have and that’s all that matters; keep trying to face your fear as slow as you need to, and know that you are not alone. The bravest thing you can do is accept you are who you are, and work from there.