Phobias don’t scare me. I just have a phobia of developing one. People don’t like to be told they have a phobia. It doesn’t matter what the phobia is; if you tell them they are something-o-phobic, they will immediately go out and try to prove you wrong.
I think they are Phobiaphobic, but I’m not a doctor, so I can’t diagnose. I know there should be a Malpracticesuitaphobia, but I can’t find it.
Agateophobia is the fear of insanity, and if you diagnosed someone with it who was really just afraid of being irritable, that might drive them crazy.
Phobias exist from A to Z, the last ones being zelophobia, a fear of jealousy, zeusophobia, a fear of God or gods, zemmiphobia, a fear of the great mole rat, and zoophobia, a fear of animals.
The Great Mole Rat has his own designation, because he is The Great Mole Rat, doncha know. Maybe he came from the Peanuts comic strip, and only appears at Halloween.
No wonder people are afraid of him. He probably ate the Great Pumpkin.
Zelophobia needs further clarification; does it mean fear of your own jealousy, or fear of some husband or wife who is going to nail your butt to the wall for flirting with their spouse?
(Envy is something altogether different; it just means you’re afraid the neighbors have better furniture than you do.)
Zeusophobia may apply only to Greeks, but I suspect it is for everyone, because if you don’t fear an all-powerful Being, you are unhealthily complacent.
Does it only take one person to inaugurate a new phobia, or do several people have to share your irrational fear for it to be recognized as reliable?
If I have a fear of getting ink on my fingers from reading the newspaper, is that enough to get me a place in the textbooks? I think it should.
In fact, I’ll write to the Op-Ed page about it.
Xanthophobia is the fear of the color yellow or the word yellow. A few colors seem to strike the fear of Zeus into people. (For instance, people who paint their houses bright purple are terrorized before they ever leave Home Depot.)
“You’re yella’!” the cowboys used to shout at some hapless brethren who had a sensible fear of getting shot or trampled by cattle. Could it be those name-calling cowboys’ fault that the color of sunshine, butter, and daisies is now reviled from here to the corral?
Xenoglossophobia is the fear of foreign languages.
Is a Spanish speaker afraid of hearing English, and an English speaker afraid when they hear Spanish?
That would be a big problem in this country, but I have no statistics as to how many Hispanics are running in fear down the street. I thought it may have been due to other societal factors, but I am not afraid to be wrong.
All kinds of people could be running down the street in abject fear, and not knowing why.
They may be xenophobic, which is a fear of strangers and foreigners, but are they also afraid of foreign languages?
Perhaps that is only a hold-out from high school when they failed their French class, and they are not dealing with multiple fears which involve someone who eats caviar, shiokara, or balut.
For those not in the know, and I wish I wasn’t, shiokara is a delicacy, a developing duck embryo boiled alive. Balut is composed of marine animals stewed up in their own organs. Those unfortunate xenophobes may have blennophobia, a fear of slime, and those who like to consume it.
There’s also Russophobia, which is a fear of Russians. Why do they get their own fear, instead of the general one of someone who’s afraid of foreigners? Damn Commies. There is also bolshephobia, which is a fear of Bolsheviks, so the Russians get it coming and going.
That’s the fear of ending up exactly where you started, or of having to go in and out of the house because you forgot something after you’ve locked the front door, and started the car. I don’t have that fear, thank goodness, because I get out of the car sixteen times to make sure I locked the front door.
Barophobia is the fear of gravity.
Now, these people have a real problem. Whereas, the rest of us don’t generally like to be belted into our La-z-Boys or having to hold on to the sides of the bed when reclining, they try to levitate their way out of their anxieties.
They need to get over it, perhaps by developing basophobia, a helpful transitional fear of falling down. That will get them to stay in their seats.
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, a very looong word, is the fear of long words. Don’t even talk about this to your doctor, especially if you have a fear of words, logophobia.
Rhytiphobia is the fear of wrinkles (one I am familiar with) and is very similar to rhypophobia, a fear of defecation.
Do not forget which is which when discussing these with your doctor. They affect the opposite ends of the human body, unless you are afraid of getting a wrinkled butt, which may have developed at the same time as your kathisophobia, a fear of sitting down.
There are phobias that seem to mean the same thing, most dealing with sex and body parts. I guess its always possible to kiss, but be mortally afraid of someone going to second, third, and home base.
There’s sarmassaphobia, which is a fear of love-making, and phallusophobia is a fear of penises. (Peni?) However, medorthophobia is the fear of an erect penis.
Why would you be afraid of any other kind?
Virginitiphobia is the fear of rape, and I am here to tell someone that you don’t have to be a virgin to have a healthy fear of rape. Sexophobia is the fear of the opposite sex, as if that’s all it takes to have sex.
There is also the fear of virgins, parthenophobia, exhibited by the same people who brought you medorthophobia.
There are only two fears that start with ‘W’, and one is Walloonphobia, fear of the Walloons.
At first glance, I thought this had something to do with Dr. Seuss and his infamous Walloons on Mulberry Street. Before I could type in ‘what are the Walloons’ in a Google search, a ready-made phrase popped up saying, ‘What the hell are the Walloons?’. Clearly, someone has a fear of not knowing what the Walloons are. That hasn’t made the list, yet.
I don’t exactly have a fear of fearing Walloons, or a fear of offending those who have a fear-
Oh, never mind. As long as my scriptophobia, a fear of writing in public, doesn’t start to act up.