MHI: UNSHAKABLE, IRRATIONAL FEAR by Lisa Lane

Trigger Warning: This piece addresses mental health

The HWA is pleased to launch its Mental Health Initiative, a coordinated roll-out of events, resources, and activities intended to promote positive mental health, foster the concept of hope, and challenge the stigma of mental illness in the horror genre. The initiative, run by the organization’s Wellness Committee, launches in June, and includes the following blog posts from Of Horror and Hope, a downloadable anthology of poems, flash fiction, and personal reflections on mental health by HWA members.

UNSHAKABLE, IRRATIONAL FEAR
Lisa Lane

Rarely do people justifiably portray agoraphobia in fiction. The player is typically lonely, sometimes a hoarder, usually not entirely likeable. Fiction almost always shows the experience from the outside, failing at exposing the actual horrors that lie within. Changes in camera aspect ratio or shifts to stream-of-consciousness writing often fall short of offering true and immersive depictions of how it feels to live with this relatively rare condition.

I like to use spiders.

Imagine, if you will, that you are terrified of spiders, and you happen to live in a world infested with them. Webbing is everywhere. Creatures skitter off in all directions every time you open your front door, and you must break through a thick layer of silk just to leave your home every day. The sound of scurrying legs brings beads of sweat to your forehead, and no matter how much antiperspirant you use, your armpits are invariably saturated before you even make it in to work.

You’re afraid people think you’re always nervous because you’ve done something wrong. After all, your fears are silly; no one else randomly breaks out in panic over the spiders’ presence. No one else occasionally flees home to safety because they can’t take it anymore. No one else’s breath catches in their throat when a spider drops from the ceiling and rushes across their path.

Living with agoraphobia isn’t about surviving a weakness; it’s about being afraid and stepping out that front door anyway. I’m not afraid of spiders like most people are. I am, however, terrified of the big, scary world. Anxiety used to paralyze me. Now, I face it. Sometimes, I tremble when I need to go somewhere. Sometimes, I even cry. I’m still okay.

We don’t choose our fears, but we can choose who we are despite them.