Everyone knows that I am crazy, a mental case with Multiple Personality Disorder, paranoid delusional, obsessive compulsive. Yes, I am all of those but I’m also a human like anyone else, and just like anyone else I’m privy to pain and sorrow. And, I have fears, a powerful survival device that was embedded in my ancestors’ DNA hundreds of thousands of years ago. Some of those genetic survival instincts in me have now been extended to the realm on phobia, for example I know I have a phobia of being stabbed or shot to death, and numerous other phobias, so last night I took a look at “The Indexed Phobia List” to see what other phobias I might have. Here are some of the other ones I discovered, but I’m sure my fears are not limited to these only, since I also have a phobia that things will get worse before they get any better, but I couldn’t find a name for it anywhere.
I’ve listed my phobias in alphabetical order, but be aware that some of these fears have more than one name, which I have mostly avoided multiplicities by not providing more than one name:
Achluophobia– Fear of darkness. I don’t want to be put in a dark cell.
Acrophobia as in acrobat, or Altophobia as in altitude. That is the fear one gets before being thrown down a roof top.
Agliophobia– Fear of pain. I have a lot of that. I basically have zero tolerance for pain. Pain makes me hurt, that’s why I don’t like it, but unfortunately there is a lot of it going around nowadays. That’s why I have to counter balance it with something lovely, something as lovely as wild flowers from the mountains.
The other day I was repairing a wooden deck in a backyard and accidentally slammed the hammer on the inner side of my left index finger. Nothing is broken, or even bruised, but it still hurts after ten days. It’s a good thing that it happened to me that way, since once again it reminded me that I am a wimp; that I have no tolerance for pain, but it also reminds me of how it feels when someone’s nose is broken into pieces by a blow of a club to the face.
Agraphobia– Fear of sexual abuse. I don’t want my ass to be violated in any prison, that’s for sure.
Aichmophobia– Fear of pointed objects. I am sure such objects as knives and daggers that are being used to kill people would fall under this category.
Ballistophobia– Fear of bullets. That’s the kind of fear Neda Agha Soltan had in her eyes when she took her last breath.
Chronomentrophobia– Fear of cloak! No, never mind this one. That’s supposed to be fear of clock. The regime should be the one that ought to be afraid of the clock that is ticking against it.
Coitophobia– Fear of coitus! What’s coitus? I don’t know! Whatever it is I’m sure I am afraid of it.
Coprastasphobia– Fear of constipation. I’m sure if I ever get imprisoned I also get constipated in there.
Cyclophobai– Fear of bicycles. Well, I don’t have that fear. I like bicycles.
Necrophobia– Fear of death. I’m sure a lot of dead brave Iranians were afraid of this fear when they died, but at the same time they were not afraid anymore either, and so they gave their lives for our liberty.
Traumatophobia– Fear of injury. I’m sure those who are shouting Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death ( یا مرگ یا آزادی ) don’t have this fear. Some people are so brave, so brave!
And here are just a few of the fears that the ruling clergies in Iran have:
Eleutherophobia– Fear of freedom.
Enochlophobia– Fear of crowds.
Numerophobia– Fear of numbers.
Logophobia– Fear of words.
