So, this is my life.
And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
i've always been secretly incredulous about people's silly phobias. when an adult explains to me that she has a terrible fear of water, usually stemming from an older brother pushing her into a pool/lake as a child, i nod with ostensible apathy. behind my understanding gaze, however, i'm thinking, "this is BS." how can people be afraid of water? it's part of our everyday lives.
the same goes for other fears. the fear of heights that's bad enough to act up even while safely inside a tall building? a fear of elevators? or, worst of all (and one of patrick's faves), the unreasonable fear of balloons. i can't help but think, "give me a break, people!"
but as with most of my peeves, i realize my own hypocrisy after a little reflection.
as i sat in my reflecting pool (read: bathtub), soaking in a luxurious dead sea salt bath from duross & langel (partly because it's good for the skin, but mostly because i'm sick), i realized i am not above such phobias. i was lying back, trying to immerse my entire, throbbing, sinus-infected head in the as-hot-as-i-could-tolerate salt water, when i had a tiny panic attack and had to sit up abruptly.
an epiphahy: i don't like water.
it should come as no surprise, i guess. there have been signs:
-when, at 5 years old, i refused to put my face into the pool water at swimming lessons and had a hysterical fit that necessitated calling my mom.
-when i failed my freshman year requisite swimming test at GCC because i refused to do any kind of breast stroke.
-and even last month when D and i were supposed to be snorkeling in honduras, my panic attack forced me back onto the boat like a poopy-diaper toddler, just me and that stupid old cuban woman who didn't want to get her red afro wet. "jew need mar praktees in la piscina," the old cow told me. "es la verdad," i responded, defeated, a failure at tourism. i should've thrown the old bag into the water, but i think we americans have caused the cubans enough pain for a while.
so it is here, in my online confessional, that i admit to having my own phobia -- if you can call it that. it's probably more of a distaste. a preference for NON-water, really.
i probably shouldn't admit such things, but it's been one of those days. deflated. defeated. frustrated. i've been dealing with this sinus thing for a while, and it's not getting any better. it just blows my mind that a team of the best doctors in all of philadelphia can't cure it. and by "a team of the best doctors in all of philadelphia," i do, of course, mean my friend brad, who just graduated from med school and is now living a real-life episode of "Scrubs."
wish me well.