Your fear stories

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I cannot stand going in Walmart, Albertsons, or Kroger with my mom anymore because of the claw machines they have at the entrance.

I went to Buffalo Wild Wings with my aunt, uncle, and two cousins in 2006 on a Saturday night and they had a TouchTunes jukebox that lit in different colors and numerous arcade machines. I felt very uncomfortable the entire time. Perhaps the only things that I enjoyed about that visit were the wings (of course) and the Buzztime Playmakers that they give you so you could play trivia on the TV screens. I haven't stepped foot in a BWW restaurant ever since.

I am afraid of jukeboxes, and a visit to a Rockfish restaurant in 2003 started it all (by the way, their food is disgusting).

Perhaps my worst fear of all is arcades. Arcades feel like pollution to my eyes and ears. I went to Peter Piper Pizza for a daycare trip when I was younger and was afraid of going into the arcade. It was made worse by one of my cousins, who dragged me into the arcade so I could play with him. It was the worst. The claw machine fear began when a mom tried to win a toy for her son. The sounds and music emanating from said claw machine were unpleasant to my ears. I couldn't wait to get out of that place.

So what are your fear stories?

I'm afraid of heights. I go down stairs without a handrail on my butt.

I am afraid of people who put way too much make-up on their faces, like clowns. Make-up is not natural and covers the face making it even harder for me to tell what a person's emotions and real intents are when they are talking. Clown's creep me out.

I used to be afraid of Santa Clause when I was younger and would scream whenever I saw anyone with a beard because it covered the face. As I have gotten older I have come to understand that beards are OK because they are natural and actually move when someone smiles, etc. My boyfriend actually has a beard and mustache and looks like Papa Smurf. (Except he isn't blue.)

that reminds me of my late Japanese mother who told me as a child that when she was a kid there was this mentally ret*d neighborhood woman who, instead of washing her face, she would simply cake on more white makeup, and it cracked from age and movement, and all the neighborhood small children were afraid of her. anyways, my fear story is bees- one example, I was driving my late father home from a medical appointment when, through an open window a bee flew in, and since I lacked power windows I could not express roll down the windows to blow the bee out, so it buzzed in orbits around my head and got in my hair and totally freaked me out, and I almost got us in a wreck by veering into oncoming traffic and almost gave my father a heart attack in the process. when a bee comes along I run like a little girl.

Why couldn't you tell him to roll the window down? Sorry, I think I missed something.

One time I was crossing the street and a blind (vision impaired) guy came with a cane which I tripped over. I went flying and couldn't get up before the light turned and the cars were coming. I had knocked him down too, so of course everybody was helping him. It traumatized me so badly I started having panic attacks, I'd be on the street and just FREEZE like a statute unable to move. That was a long time ago and I don't have panic attacks any more (thank goodness), but when someone comes toward me with a cane, I get the heck out of the way.

For years I couldn't go near that street, but now where I work is a few doors from the place and I go there all the time and never even think of it. It's canes though, I hate canes!

the reason is also known as "deer in the headlights" syndrome, aka I lost the powers of speech and calm deliberation with that buzzing bastard orbiting my head at close range, it was like i was at that point good for only an inchoate garbed alarmed moaning coming from my mouth.

Oh, I should have picked up on that. I wouldn't have been much better. Especially in car while driving.

Lately I've been reaching out for help in the community a lot more, and it's been terrifying!
People are always telling me to CALL them! ON A PHONE! Horrifying!
Just today, a lady from the housing authority asked me if I would call if I had any problems, and I just couldn't move or breathe or anything!
I've developed a coping habit of sleeping for 4 hours afterward, and then staying on WrongPlanet until midnight.