Mincey’s Musings
Year One, Week Thirty-Three

There are so many things that people fear! I never realized just how many until I conducted a Google search in preparation for this article.

I began a simple Google search (I’m “fearful” there is no such thing) to determine what is the greatest fear people have. I found one list of ten top fears, then immediately found a list of 100 fears, next a list of fears common to women. The unending, exhausting lists seem infinite. Amazing to me is that each and every fear seems to have a name.

I have heard and believed for many years that the greatest fear people have is the fear of public speaking (glossophobia). I understood that the majority of people would literally rather die (thanatophobia) than to have to give a speech.

I am sure that a survey or research study was conducted and in vogue at some time for me to have acquired this unnecessary and inaccurate bit of information. I have concluded (and there is no research, other than my own, to verify my belief) that each person has his/her own set of fears based upon personal experiences in life. As an example, the fear of women (gynophobia) might occur in those who have unresolved mother issues.

I think back to one of my most loved relatives, my Great Aunt Lidia Mincey. Aunt Lidia suffered from ornithophobia, the fear of birds. A Google search will show that there are many superstitious beliefs regarding birds inside the house, including their color, from which direction they came, etc. Aunt Lidia believed that a bird flying into the house was a sign of bad luck, possibly even death.

On the particular day in memory, Aunt Lidia and I were alone at my house. A bird flew in, and Aunt Lidia grabbed both sides of her head and “hunkered down” toward the floor, screaming at me, “Git it, honey!” I tried my best. I got a broom and tried to shoo it from the living room curtains. We were rescued, however, by our cat Muffin. After climbing the curtains, with one swipe of her mighty paw the intruder was captured, sentenced and executed within thirty seconds. I felt sort of silly standing in the living room, holding the broom as Muffin marched off triumphantly with her trophy. She carried the doomed former champion of the skies to the bedroom. Under my bed, she consumed every drop of flesh and blood of her victim, leaving only the feathers as witness of her triumph.

I am also reminded of my Aunt Duskie Jones. She was my father’s oldest full sister, and most of the time a frugal (some would say “stingy”) woman. A lot of elderly people who were raised or lived during the Great Depression seemed to be so affected. Perhaps even this indicates that she suffered from peniaphobia (fear of poverty). Aunt Duskie and Uncle Roy lived at the dead end of Whittle Springs Road in Knoxville, in a house that fronted onto several warehouses. Duskie and Roy practically never left the house at the same time, as Duskie was afraid that someone would rob them of their meager possessions. Duskie suffered from kleptophobia, or fear of theft.

Duskie suffered from one other fear that was foreign to her otherwise practical nature. She was astraphobic as she feared thunder and lightning (also known as brontophobia, tonitrophobia, ceraunophobia). I took Duskie and my mother to Nashville once to see the great Bill Monroe in concert, and we stayed at a downtown motel. Duskie and mother slept in one bed, I in the other. Mother went to sleep, and I was on the edge when I heard a storm brewing. I knew Duskie would hear the storm, and sure enough, in a few minutes she said, “Ronnie?” I ignored her, but she said louder, “RONnie?” I mumbled, “Huh?” She said, “It’s storming.” I replied, “I know it.”

She and I were alone at my house one day when a thunderstorm arose. Had she been at home, she would have unplugged all electrical appliances possible and sat in the dark with all windows and doors closed. At my house, I took her to my library and read her a story. I don’t remember what I read to her (it wasn’t the Bible, as Duskie was not a churchgoing woman, though she was a saved Christian), but whatever I read kept her mind from the storm until it passed. She seemed to enjoy my reading to her, which I found charming.

My mother had a few fearful demons of her own with which to live. I remember once she was sitting on the front porch. A storm was coming, but it seemed distant. All of a sudden, there was a tremendous flash of lightning that seemed to come from everywhere followed instantaneously by a BOOM of thunder that shook the very earth and everything on it. Mother “sailed” in record speed from her chair to the living room door (a distance of perhaps five feet) in record time and slammed the door against the coming tempest.

On another occasion, Mother was sitting on the same spot. I tapped her on the shoulder and said, “There’s one of your old buddies.” She looked to where I pointed at the porch post to her left and saw a praying mantis. As she slowly looked at it, it turned its evil-looking head and looked at her, then flew toward her. I witnessed yet another record-breaking dash for the safety of the front door and living room. This evidenced Mother’s entomophobia, or fear of insects. Interestingly, she didn’t fear all bugs and insects, but she had a particular terror of the praying mantis, though Google informs that there is no name for fear of this specific insect.

Some even suffer from phobophobia (the fear of fear). What miserable wretches such people must be! This led me to wonder if there is anyone who has no fear. Yet another Google search took me to an article by Laura Sanders in Science News dated December 16, 2010 entitled “Rare Brain Disorder Prevents All Fear”. Sanders quotes a study “published online December 16 in Current Biology” which described a woman identified as “SM”. This lady had “an unusual genetic disorder called Urbach-Wiethe disease. In late childhood, this disease destroyed both sides of her amygdala . . . because of this brain damage, the woman knows no fear, the researchers found.” The title of this article would indicate that only brain damaged individuals have no fear of anything.

Conversely, is the counterpoint of this fear (panophobia—the fear of everything or that terrible things will happen) also a sign of a brain disorder? Is every fear a sign of some brain disorder? I don’t believe so, as one of early mankind’s survival instincts was the fear of impending danger.

I have conducted a few Google and Internet searches throughout the years. Three things I find most fascinating about these diversions. First, it seems on many occasions that every search leads to sites that are better left alone. Every time I have conducted a search related to medical afflictions, it seems the end result is impending, imminent death. Finally, no matter what I begin searching, each search seems to lead to more and more fascinating (and in many cases useless) information.

As a result of my Google search for this article, I now recognize phobophobia in myself—the fear of how many things there are to fear. These various fears have reminded me of several people and incidents which I will share with you during the upcoming weeks. Next week I’ll share some fears of my Aunt Fleetie.
Worry not, Gentle Reader. I’ll do my best to avoid your:

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (fear of long words).

You know I couldn’t make that one up!