Phobia.

I have an unusual phobia. I'm terrified of thunder. You can throw hail, wind, rain, or whatever else at me and I'm not bothered. As soon as the thunder comes though, I turn into a little ball of quivering goo. Its not a good phobia to have especially when living in the Midwest, further, a town aptly called Storm Lake. The more I think about it, the more I realize I really chose a poor place to live in. One would think I would have taken the name of this place as a warning.

Caution: If there is a breath of stormy activity within seven states, Storm Lake will most certainly be hit.

Its very frustrating to me when people laugh at it. If I were terrified of swimming, flying, or sharks would they laugh as much? I don't go around pointing the finger at people who have phobias of snakes or bats, two creatures I'm particularly fond off. I don't tell people who have claustrophobia to simply get over it or yuck it up at people who are too frightened of the world to step a foot outside. I don't taunt people who might be paranoid of the texture of cotton, who have a deathly fear of getting their haircut, or the people who can't stand the sight of fire. I'm not scared of any of those things. I love to swim and it would be ultimately a dream come true if I could swim with a shark. I love flying and its never made sense to me why people don't like to...you're a thousand times more likely to die in your car than in a plane. I have had pet snakes, wait anxiously for dusk so I can listen to the resident bat, find comfort in enclosed spaces, love adventuring to new places, live for a good cotton men's t-shirt, enjoy haircuts, and I'm a bit of a pyromaniac. That doesn't mean I ridicule people who have phobias relating to those things.

It seems that people have a hard time equating their phobias to mine. Somehow their phobias are more important or more likely to happen. I know thunder can't hurt me. That's where the definition of phobia comes into play. Phobias are irrational fears that, in the most extreme cases, interfere with life. My phobia is no different than anyone else's. When it storms, I go into panic mode to the point where I come close to or might actually hyperventilate. My heart races and in some very bad instances I actually felt the urge to kill myself just to get away from the fear. That's how bad it is. I can't do anything if there is thunder sounding around me. Even thunder on TV, movies, or CDs is enough to set me off. I have a weird sense for storms; I wake up before they hit in a near state of absolute panic. I know what's coming and it doesn't make it any easier. It does affect my life. Today I couldn't drive home to Okoboji not just because of the zero visibility 15 minutes south of Storm Lake, but because I saw lightening as well. I'm not scared of lightening but most people know that where there is lightening, there is thunder that follows. I didn't even hear it. It was just the fact that I knew it would be there.

Right on the the road I had a panic attack. I had to turn around and come back to Storm Lake. The closer I got back to the hazy sunlight of this place and further away from the weird black/green color hanging over Spencer, the better I felt. But it doesn't go away. I know its going to storm tonight so right now, and most likely the rest of the day, I'm in a state of anxiety. I'm on edge. I feel like I'm going to be bouncing off the walls. My pupils won't return to normal size and my mind is working faster than my fingers. Its horrible. I hate it. When I'm in this state I feel a lot of self-loathing. I feel picked upon; its not like I asked it to thunder and storm. I feel mad at everyone. I hate Adam for the fact we don't have a basement to hide in. I hate my parents for not getting me proper counseling on this fear. I hate God because he keeps bouncing storms off of my head. I hate the weather, I hate Iowa, and most of all I hate myself for being a coward. I have promised myself over and over that someday I'll stay up through a storm and convince myself there's nothing to fear. Instead the same shit happens. I lug my computer and headphones into the bathroom, deafen myself with Mindless Self Indulgence, choke down enough sleeping pills to kill the average person (not me; I've become a professional at pushing just how many sleep aids I can take), climb into the tub with a towel for a blanket and hope to every higher power that I'll just pass out.

That's what its like for me. Its hard. I wish I could change it. I don't even know how I would. I've considered hypnosis if I could find a reputable person to do it. You have it now. Brontophobia might be a stupid phobia but its a phobia nonetheless. Think about all the phobias you might have, the fears that make you want to crawl into the ground and never come out. Then pretend you're me, someone who gets taunted for the fear they have. Others don't understand, don't want to understand. Its painful. I can't stand being me enough when it comes to my fears. I want to jump out of my skin and into someone else's. Being frightened of something is bad enough but to have people mock you for it makes it worse. I have to stifle it, hope to God someone doesn't see me flinch and cover my ears at the tiniest rumble, or even worse, hope that I'm not in a public place when a storm strikes because then the world will be party to my emotional melt down.

Its not easy having a phobia.