I just need help with mistakes and the like.
My phobia, the thing that terrifies me the most, is earthquakes. The millions of people that live in California, let alone on the West Coast, fearing earthquakes may not seem so irrational. Earthquakes have happened. Earthquakes have killed. Earthquakes will happen. So why the use of the word “phobia” if my fears have valid reasons behind them? It is not whether or not my fears are sound or not, but rather my reaction to the earthquakes. All my problems started with one event, problems the likes of which still plague me to this day.
In 1994, an earthquake rocked most of Southern California. The earthquake and the damage it caused could be felt for miles from the epicenter in the San Fernando Valley, and clocked in at a whopping 6.7 on the Richter scale. I was only three at the time, but I can still remember that day vividly. I woke up to my uncle, who had been staying with us at the time, yelling at me. My bed was halfway across the room from where it had been when I had fallen asleep. My parents got to me just seconds after my uncle with my mom screaming for me and running after my dad. It was chaos as we tried to get out of the house. Glasses, plates, pictures, all seeming to fall on to of us, falling from their respective shelves and shattering on the floor. It was no wonder that no one had noticed my dad’s foot had started bleeding profusely until we were safely outside. For weeks after that day, I had nightmares and would often und up in my parents’ bed.
Nightmares weren’t the only thing that has resolved from that night. Since then, anytime there have been earthquakes or aftershocks or anything that even feels like an earthquake, I freak out. Immediately, I start to feel weak and shaky. I become fidgety for the rest of the day, and there is nothing I can do to calm down. There is nothing else that can terrify me so, and, in fact, as the years go by, it seems as though my fears have increased rather than be assuaged by time. The interesting thing about my reaction is the fact that I only seem to get these “symptoms,” for lack of a better word, when the earthquakes occur and after the entire ordeal. In between, in every other crisis or danger I have faced, I remain calm, cool, and collected. Only in the face of an earthquake do I freak out.
Most people get over their fears when they exist because of natural disasters. The people may still have an aversion to the things that remind them of the event that they have lived through, however, they tend to become used to the dangers that go with living in the region. And then there’s me. I still have my fear of any and all earthquakes, no matter how small. My sister accidentally bumping my bed while in my room for some reasons or my dogs jumping on my bed have me waking up, already on high alert. Every time I get worked up, I assure myself that everything is fine, that I am overreacting, and that I won’t act in such a manner the next time. Every time I get worked up, I forget the promise I made last time. In fact, over time, my fear seems to increase despite my effort to rein it in just slightly. Albeit, this has occurred over many years, and only slightly at that. While many other phobias interfere with people’s lives, mine has yet to do so. As such, I have little reason to for fully getting over my fear. Yes, I flip out when I believe there to be earthquakes, but it only occurs every so often, and I have yet to be incapacitated by it. I have only really freaked out at home, anyways. Nothing too embarrassing … yet.
Regardless of whether or not I have been embarrassed by my fear, the fact of the matter remains. An earthquake in 1994 scared me so thoroughly that I can still feel its repercussions, but not so much so that I have felt the need to get professional help. Perhaps, one day, in the near future, preferably before the next earthquake takes place, I will move to someplace else (Europe, maybe) where another phobia will replace my current fear of earthquakes.
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