phobic

I want to, but I can’t stay home- I’m what’s called ecophobic.

Can’t go to work or hold a job, ‘cause I’m also ergophobic.

I’m agoraphobic, too, they say; that’s why I hate outdoors.

The mall? Oops, demophobia- it’s so crowded in those stores! 

But leave me all alone? No way! I’ve got eremophobia! 

And now I never sleep at night, with my touch of hypnophobia.

Did I say touch? Don’t touch me! Nothing personal, it’s haphephobia.

By the way, you’re standing way too close- please respect my claustrophobia.

Kakorrhaphiophobia is fear of failure-try saying that fast 3 times!

I would, but I’m afraid I’d fail…and did I mention my fear of mimes?

It’s called metamfiezomaiophobia- now that’s a mouthful, too. 

But say it, please, don’t act it out; or I'll be creeped, it’s true.

I know you think I’m crazy, and that upsets me so,

‘Cause even your opinion scares me. That’s allodoxaphobia, just so you'll know.

I try so hard to compose myself, but I’m like a ticking bomb,

And having atomosophobia (explosions!!!) doesn’t help me stay too calm.

With all these phobias in my head, I’m a walking dictionary.

But suffering from macroxenoglossophobia as I do, I find these long words scary!

My therapist said I was on the road to recovery from these issues.

But a euphobic fear of all good news sent me reaching for the tissues.

We all have things we’re scared of, like spiders, snakes and mice.

But do you shrink from Japanese, or just plain knees, or ice?

There are names for those, and I should know, I’m sure I have all three,

But counterphobia’s my biggest fear- my fear to be fear-free.

pds

 PDS - three letters that cause the heart to skip, the brain to seize, and the mothers of Oklahoma to go on high alert. PDS stands for Particularly Dangerous Situation, and yesterday was labeled a PDS here in the heartland. Even those of us who call these plains home, and who regularly experience weather scenarios of the white-knuckle variety, come to attention when those three letters are tacked onto the storm forecast. And then we spring into action. Those fortunate to have them clean the cobwebs out of their shelters, stocking them with bottled water, flashlights, and weather radios, along with anything they can’t possibly imagine living without once the clouds part. Which for me, with a clarity that comes within nanoseconds of remembering either May 3, 1999 or May 20, 2013, boils down to my husband, daughters, sons-in-law, and grandbabies. Everything else is chaff.

But yesterday’s PDS wound up standing more for this- Pee Diddly Squat. Sure the clouds rolled, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the winds blew. But around here, we call that...Tuesday. In other words, the situation failed to be particularly dangerous. Even though words like hook echo, vorticities, dry line, and mesocyclone poured forth from the mouths of our favorite weathermen, it was, by Oklahoma standards, a non-event. Much ado about not much.

But something significant did happen at our location last night- something weather related in the sense that the alarming predictions of what might come brought family to the shelter of home where, juiced by the excitement of storm preparation, we ate pizza, drank wine, worked puzzles, read books, played hide and go seek, and talked, laughed and “sillied” away the night, as the voices of the hyper-vigilant weathermen droned on and on in the background.  It should have been frightening. It could have been dangerous- even particularly dangerous. And for the fact that it wasn’t, we are grateful. But for our family, last night’s storm vigil mutated into a different form of PDS. One, in fact, that happens around our place any time our family is together, no matter the season, but made more poignant yesterday, perhaps, by the sense of an unmaterialized brush with mortality.

So my calendar is circled on Tuesday, April 26^th. It was cloudy, muggy, and it had all the makings of something eventful; and when the family came together, with kids, dogs and bags in tow, it became a PDS event after all.  Pretty Damn Special.