Globophobic and Hating it! : This is My Story

Colorful, inflatable, an enjoyable company … danger!

When I was a kid, I always loved to have what the others could have. New friends, clothes, and playthings.

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Balloons were just one of those things that youngsters wanted to get especially when there was a big occasion. Even now, you could still see those types of people, who would go and grab the inflatable, colored thing for a souvenir from a party. Some even use it for more colors in cheering for their favorite team in the games.

I was one of those people … BEFORE!

I never had a fear of those things before. I even name balloons and talk to them when I was a little youngster trying to find someone to talk to in my “me time”. I loved them … loved.

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Pennywise, the Clown from Stephen King’s “It”

And a balloon? I’ve got red and green and yellow and blue…’

Do they float?’

Float?’ The clown’s grin widened. ‘Oh yes, indeed they do. They float! And there’s cotton candy…’

George reached.

The clown seized his arm.

And George saw the clown’s face change.

I had never felt a big fear on balloons until I reached college. I was in my second year when I and the other students were assigned to deal with the stage designing for an event. The stage was colored with balloons.

I was sitting in the second row of chairs arranged for the audience. Right there, I was left with all the balloons around me that would soon be taken to the stage for designing. The others were inflating balloons onstage.

Just one blow of the wind … one blow, and everything changed.

Everything happened so quickly. All of those colorful, seemingly innocent globes of air were popping, and filled my ears! I swear, my heart beat fast. I screamed, I want to cry. I ran to a student on stage, who was inflating one balloon, to tell her I could not take it anymore, and then … the balloon she was inflating popped! I cried. That was a funny and seriously scary experience.

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Years later, I told my friends that I could really not stand to be with those things anymore. Even the touch of that latex would make me shiver and sweat a lot (yeah, did I ever mention I’m only scared with latex balloons?).

One of them brought lots of them at school and started teasing me because she didn’t believe in fear of balloons. There were, I forgot, five of them? who were chasing me with those bothersome and nightmare-fueling things of evil … They got me off-guard and cornered. I could not do anything, but scream and cry. I was soaked in sweat and was quivering with fear.

The fear opened my senses that a single touch of my skin would make me want to jump, and just get away. The feeling sucks! I do not know if there were those who could actually understand me with this kind of fear.

I actually had a little theory about where I got this phobia, in which, I am loathing. I had made a few research to get rid of it. Guess what? I could not do it my own, and I do not trust my friends of giving me their so-called therapy when they don’t really understand me.

So, here’s another flashback of my childhood…

It was a New Year’s Eve. I was four years old, stuck in a little, big town in Leyte. I and my friends were waiting for the other year to come (I forgot to tell you, this was my very first New Year’s Eve in my memory). I was told there’s going to be lights and colors in the sky at midnight to celebrate the new year. A curious child, I was excited to wait for that moment. I even readied myself a little trumpet.

Then, I heard the celebrities in the television counting down for midnight.

“… 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

Upon hearing those people on TV, other town folks were lighting up the sky that gave colors to the dark night. Right there, I was never expecting for the BANG! I stood helpless staring up the sky, and what made me cry were the loud cheering of people, the trumpets, and a loud bang. God, I would want to make myself run and just hide where I could have my life spared for something better.

My father heard me crying at the front yard, and fetch me. He feared I got hurt by fireworks or stray bullets that were always in the news on days after Christmas.

He took me into my room, then I hid under the bed with my hands covering both ears, and the dog beside me. We were hiding in fear.

The sudden loud sounds still make me want to get out of this world to be safe. I don’t know what’s with the sound anyway, but sometimes, it’s really scary. I even hate going to parties because of loud sounds they are making with their drums and their speakers (not to mention that freaky, loathsome music blaring through them).

The only exploding sound I love hearing is the thunder during storms.

Anyway, it’s when I found out that Globophobia could also be a twin of another fear, Phonophobia (fear of loud noise). The New Year’s incident, I guess, was the one that fueled the fear of those colored globes.

Now, I could not even get close to balloons or even touch them … or imagine them. They’re the devil.

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