I saw the long, thin body curling underneath a California porch, and I immediately looked away as I felt my face scrunch up in disgust.
I don't know when my fear and hate of snakes began. I remember touching a garter snake in preschool, but I don't remember my bad thoughts developing against them.
All I know, is when I worked at the library in high school, I couldn't even shelve books on snakes unless I only held the binding, because I couldn't touch the pictures of them. It just freaks me out.
Nate has tried to get me to get over the irrational fear I have. I have looked at snakes in cages while standing behind him for protection. However, my heart starts beating faster; I can't stand still; my eyes start to tear up a little bit.
How many things in our lives do we hate for no real reason. Where did our hatred of having to go to work come from? Why is cleaning seen as horrible? Why is cold weather annoying to pretty much everybody, even the people who choose to live in areas where they know it's going to happen?
We gripe and complain; we fear; we worry. However, do we ever stand back and think about why we do those things? Why do make ourselves miserable?
Not that I can tell you how I can ever get rid of my fear of snakes, but maybe if I start to think about it, I'll realize I have no real reason for it.
No reason, that is, except for the fact that they have no legs and icky, little tongues.
No comments:
Post a Comment