We’re All Scared of Something, Aren’t We?                                

I’d be lying if I said that I remember the very FIRST instance when I realised I had a phobia. I do however, recall some of the incidents that contribute(d) to my fear. When I was younger (yeah, I was a pick-me, and I cringe every time I think about it), I was adamant about being the person who scoffed at arachnophobia (fear of spiders), acrophobia (fear of heights), claustrophobia (fear of enclosed spaces) and even coulrophobia (fear of clowns). Though I understood these fears had some merit as an instinctual survival response, I thought there was weakness and vulnerability in those fears, so I desensitized myself. That was until I realised I had developed the wackiest, most illogical phobia myself…

1. The Viewing of the Body

I was at the Melbourne museum with my mum and dad, or was it with school? I honestly could not tell you. It seemed like we went every damn weekend. But as a child, my conception of time was not that reliable, so of course, we did not. Going through exhibits, I was particularly interested in Pompeii and the Dinosaurs (oh god, the dinosaurs! But that’s a story for another day). We (whoever ‘we’ were) had come across the marine-life section, and that’s when I saw the spine-shivering, vomit-inducing, nightmare-worthy colossal freaking squid, waiting for me to creep close enough so it could break free from its icy glass chamber and devour me alive.  I can’t remember if I screamed the first time I saw it there, or if I was so stuck in my ‘freeze’ survival response that I remained nothing more than a useless, gaping statue. I DO remember screaming what I believe was the second time- when I went with my high school in Year 7. I decided to face up to it, thinking that it wouldn’t be as bad as I remembered, that lil’ 8-year-old me was just overdramatic. But I was so fucking wrong. Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.

• The Dream

Well now, THIS is the one that I will never shake because it is one of the most vivid memories I have. Just a bit of FYI first, I am notorious for having the most stupid and oddly detailed dreams, and this is one of the milder (milder for the audience, this dream messed me up) ones. Over the years, details have slipped, but there are things I am still certain of.

FACT #1: My dad, brother and I were exploring a large cave. This cave was covered head-to-toe in amethyst and quartz. Completely illuminated. To our left was the entrance of the cave which was covered in ice and icicles because for some reason we were in the artic. To our right was a large body of water inside the cave.

FACT #2: While examining the crystals, we must have triggered a signal, because a Kraken had appeared from the water. I remember the tip of its head reaching the top of the cave (which was extremely tall).

FACT #3: This all occurred at night. I don’t know why this is an important detail, perhaps the darkness and the fear of the unknown and being trapped all merged together?

FACT #4: This thing was hideous. A sickly grey/purple colour with tentacles that had begun flaking from being in slumber for so long. I think part of the Kraken’s curse involved the crystals prolonging its life, which is why touching the crystal was a bad idea.

FACT #5: I don’t remember how, but we left the cave and attempted to escape on a small row boat. But with the flick of a tentacle, my baby brother had been pulled to the depths of the ocean. My dad jumped in to save him, but the Kraken had some strange mythical powers, because it had turned both my brother and dad into large yellow fish with piranha-like mouths. I was trapped, alone with a monster, and had lost my family.

FACT #6: This is how the dream ends. I can’t even begin to describe the way I felt after that dream, but it’s been burned into my memory for the longest time.

• The Instagram Newsfeed Conspiracy

This is quite funny actually, ironic even. I’m sure as we know by now, my phobia is chapodiphobia (fear of octopuses, and to be honest I almost went into cardiac arrest at the images that popped up when I had to search for my phobia’s actual name). The Instagram Newsfeed conspiracy is just that. I had a week, as in SEVEN CONSECUTIVE DAYS of octopus-related content on my Instagram feed, unprompted! There is no way that my feed would automatically show them, because I actively avoid anything octopus-related, of course. So there’s no ‘since you liked this, you may like this’ situation. The conspiracy is this; they are *always* listening, and whoever was, decided it would be hilarious to scare the crap out of me every time I scrolled on my feed. There is one particular incident that stood out to me the most. I had tapped on those 3D videos where the animal interacts with the page, marvelling at the whales swimming toward me when great pink tentacles thrash toward the screen and next thing I know, I’ve lost my grip and the phone has fallen flush on my face. I began crying, not just because it freaking hurt, but because I was also terrified. I ended up calling my boyfriend hysterical- questioning why I had such a strong reaction to it. Looking back now I also think I overreacted, but this is the thing with phobias, you can’t control your reaction. It’s reflexive, because your brain/body are certain you’re in danger. So while it’s easy for me to scoff at my former self, I know that if I were showed an octopus right now, I would react in very much the same way.

Yes, yes, why haven’t I done anything about this fear yet if its so serious? I’ll explain below…

Growing up I was never in an environment where this fear significantly impacted my everyday life. As I’ve grown older, the likelihood of interacting with an octopus or squid has significantly increased. For one, I now adore the water, and one of my favourite past times is swimming at the beach in summer. My partner is also studying to be a Marine Scientist, and I have already been scared too many times just by walking in on Zoom lectures. Soooo yes, something is going to have to change for me soon. I did once talk to a therapist about this phobia… she thought my fear may have a symbolic association, rather than the actual animal itself. But I’m not quite ready to delve into whatever THAT trauma is yet.

I’ve also tried some backyard exposure therapy (ET) with some friends–systematic desensitisation, where the phobia is repeatedly exposed to the client (ahem, me). It usually begins with small exposure steps, from drawings to more detailed pictures, and even videos. Eventually, your brain will begin to recondition your connection with that stimulus (fear), so that when you are exposed to it your body will not automatically kick into survival mode. In some cases, this results in complete desensitisation, where the person no longer fears the thing at all. But no matter how many times I’ve tried this and active mindfulness, I haven’t been able to ‘fix’ myself. The next stage of ET is typically ‘flooding’, but seeing as that involves direct exposure and interaction, I don’t think I’m going to have a counsellor or anyone else give me an octopus any time soon (looking at you Marine Sciencer, don’t you dare).

Regardless, nobody really knows why we have phobias, particularly in my case where it makes no discernible sense! One does not always have to directly experience a traumatic event to develop the phobia (For example, your mum may have been mauled by a dog as a child, and growing up hearing the story, you now too have this intense fear even though you didn’t directly experience it). On this note however, I’d like to add that phobias have the ability to become “extinct.” That is, where one UNLEARNS a conditioned response (i.e. phobias; learning to no longer be scared of something). Hence, we DO possess the capacity to triumph over even the most extreme fears. Phobias do not need to be permanent, or detrimentally affect our lives. So perhaps there is hope for me yet…

(SIDE NOTE: I would also like to note that all of the Psychology-based information, was knowledge derived from my Bachelor’s University textbooks and learning materials. I do not wish to promote false information in any way)

This creative non-fiction was submitted for an assignment during my first-year creative writing class, and has been edited slightly for the purpose of this post.