I have lots of fears, fueled by my anxiety issues. I thought of writing about some of them, like my writing or publishing fears, or my food issue fears, or worrying about my family. But I spend too much time obsessing about all these things already, so I figured I'd write about a tangible fear, that while still icky, freaks me out far less than the above.
Let's talk about mice, people.
I have no issues with Fievel or the little white mice in pet stores or Mickey or any famous mice. Nope, I'm talking about the brown and grey ones, also known as field mice. Yes, they're a lot smaller than me, but that's irrelevant. I've run to the other end of a room after spotting a mouse. I've bolted from rooms. I've stood on chairs. I firmly believe that movies with mice scenes need to have a warning. Like a big M next to the PG, PG-13, or R. M for mice. So I know there will be a scene where I'll have to close my eyes. No show is immune. I've watched children's shows, favorite television shows and dramas and out of nowhere, BOOM, mouse! Now, if the characters are in a sewer, I know to close my eyes and the person beside me (usually my husband) knows to not let me open them until the mouse is gone. If I'm watching with my seven-year-old, it's a stickier situation as he thinks it's hilarious to tell me the mouse is gone when in fact it and its friends are still on the screen. Boys.
I'm pretty sure I know where my fear stems from. When we first came to America, we had no money. I was three, and my parents, grandparents, sister and I lived in a one bedroom apartment. We slept on boxes because we couldn't afford beds, and my dad stayed up at night and trapped mice so they wouldn't crawl on us. Mouse traps weren't enough. So, this is probably why the little critters skeeve me out to this day. But that doesn't change my fear. And it's not worth it for me to really get past this fear or else I'd lock myself in a room of the crawly, furry yuckies and hope to overcome it.
In the meantime, I'll continue petitioning for that M rating. :-)