May 6, 2015

#Writing 101: Personality on the Page

Today’s Prompt: We all have anxieties, worries, and fears. What are you scared of? Address one of your worst fears.Write this post in a style distinct from your own.

WTF! One.ONE? Only just ONE! Really?

I could write a whole manuscript of fears on a hundred rolls of papyrus paper and my list never ends! (OK. I exaggerated a little there. I could probably fill up 2 sheets of toilet papers with my crazy fears but I suppose you get my drift). 

And a distinct style? I think I have none. Does cussing count? Granted I don’t do it that often, although they do come up once in a while.

In my world, every fear I have is almost THE.WORST. This has been especially so since I become a mother when I realised that my anxiety sky-rocketed at a phenomenal rate. Needless to say, irrational fears and anxiety have been a part and parcel of my every day life, and sometimes, they mess with my head. Big time!

To name a few:

    • My heart palpitates each and every time I see my kids climbing up a 5-meters in obstacle heights when we take them to an indoor playground just so they could slide down in that crazy-looking twirly tunnel.What if they loose their footing and tumble? What if other older kids play rough and they are too young to defend themselves or be even aware for their own safety? What if they get stuck in the twirly tunnel? See this picture here. My knees were shaking just looking at my kids from 5 meters )or more!) below!



Squirt right on top! Yikes.

  • My fear of big, sharp knives! I may love cooking to bits, but cutting stuff up is not one of them. Get those big-assed knives away from me! They could magically slice you up, chase you round the room and then kill you! (If you want to know more about this crazy fear of mine, read about it here.)


  • Agyrophobia: Fear of crossing the road. Yes, it is kind of abnormal but I hate, hate, hate having to cross roads and streets. Once, my BFF made us cross a 6 lane high-way while we were stranded somewhere in Thailand as we had to get to the opposite site of the road. I was paralysed with fear! If I have to, I would walk the kilometer just to get to the overhead bridge. This fear is being fueled further while living in Thailand as zebra crossings and traffic lights are there just for decorations where motorists have absolutely no regard for them! You have NO IDEA how fast my heart races each time I encounter a crossing.


  • Kids elevating themselves up on the balcony just to “see things better”. Or them running up or down the stairs in full speed.  Or jumping around in the bathroom on a slippery floor. Or slip and fall and hit their head on the edge of a glass table. Or the remote possibility of being abducted? Enough said. I have instant blood pressure when I was writing those!


  • Leaving my life in the hands of imbecilic drivers of motorbike taxis, tuk-tuks and taxis who think they are Michael Schumachers of the world; zig-zagging their way through traffic, going against traffic and sometimes, doing all of those heavily intoxicated.


Are they real fears, though? I don’t know. They may jolly well only be in my head and I probably need to see a bunch of psychiatrists and hypnotisers to be rid of them all.

But my deepest, real worst fear amongst the above? I think it would be being involved in an accident ,then ending up as a paraplegic with half a sound mind and the insurance company doesn’t cover it all. What’s worse than that is also probably surviving my kids as icing on the cake. THAT, I think that would top the list of my biggest, worse fear(s).

If that ever happens (***touch wood*** and I’m only stating all that because of this assignment!), I would rather be dead, and be taken off life support as quickly and swiftly as they can,  rather than me being a burden to my family and society. In the scheme of things , it is the only practical thing to do.

When my BFF and I we were talking about death a long time back,  I had mentioned that if only religion allowed it (it doesn’t), I would rather be burnt to ashes rather than be buried.  I then told her should somehow my body turned to ashes, I would will for her to throw my ashes in all the countries I have visited as my last request.

She balked at me. Said that it would cost her way to much money and that it may take her a decade to visit all places I have gone. So no can do. I need to ask for something simpler. Damn! So much for honesty. I guess that’s just what good friends are made of.

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