Emetophobia

I’m not sure I know anyone weirder than myself. Truly, if you really got to know me and my quirky personality, you’d think the same thing. In fact, I went to Fiesta Texas a few weeks ago with some friends and by the end of the day, one of my friends, who will remain anonymous but whose name rhymes with Ben, flat out said, you’re weird. I smiled, agreed and moved on with life. Or onto the next roller coaster, I should say.

Let me warn you by saying that this post is not the girliest post I’ve written either, if you have a weak stomach or happen to be reading this on your lunch hour, you may want to skip ahead and come back at a later time. Okay, well it's not that gross, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

There are two specific things that make me weird. And for some odd reason, I feel like sharing them with you, my precious blog readers, on this lovely Friday afternoon. If you unsubscribe to my blog or stop following me after this, I completely understand and will 100% respect your decision. After all, you only see the prim and proper Lindsee on my little corner.

Confession number one, I find potty humor to be well, humorous. It’s true. Although I am one of the girliest girls you’ll meet, potty humor has a place in my heart that I assure you, will always be there. I attribute this affection to growing up in a home with two brothers, a dad and no sisters. Yes, I have a lovely mother, but she could easily beat your mom in a burping contest.

Take for instance the other day on facebook a conversation between me and my older brother. He was discussing on someone’s status his dislike for fast food, specifically Chick-Fil-A, (I know you may need to pause for a moment of silence while we all mourn his lack of appreciation for Christian chicken) and when a friend of his referred to fast food as “good food quickly” he responded back, “"Good food quickly equals bad poopie soon..." .

I laughed until I snorted. And then laughed some more.

I’m not sure why that got me so tickled, but it’s the truth. Maybe it’s because I know my brother so well and can hear what kind of voice and tone he said that in, or maybe, just maybe, I find potty humor to be entertaining. I find the latter to be the cause.

Let's face it, everybody poops. I find it funny sometimes. Did I really just write that on my blog? Yes, yes I did. I might as well seclude myself in Buffalo, Texas now since I'm certain no boy will ever want to date me after reading this post.

If you’re ever in my presence and this tends to be a trending topic, now you’ll know why.

Confession number two, and most importantly, I have a very legitimate fear.

What is that fear you ask?

Emetophobia, the fear of throwing up.

How is it that I can talk about every bodily function but the thought of a stomach virus makes me want to crawl in a hole and could potentially give me a full blown panic attack? It's very ironic, if you ask me.

After googling fear of throwing up last night, because yes, google is my source of all things medical, I convinced myself, because I also happen to consider myself a hypochondriac, that I had an anxiety disorder that was linked to this fear of mine. Can you believe that this fear is so paralyzing for some people that they won't even eat out for fear they will get sick and throw up? Y'all, that's serious. That thought has never even crossed my mind.

I'm not sure why this is such a fear for me. I think it's due to my lack of experience. I realize that that sounds awful, but it's true. Fact: I've thrown up a grand total of TWO times in my entire life.If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'.

Both times are memories forever etched in my mind that I'd love to forget, but I don't think I ever will. They scarred me for life and were both at the most inopportune times.

My first time was in 7th grade during a Saturday choir rehearsal. Since I was naive to this feeling, I didn't know what was happening to me and in the middle of a song lost my breakfast all over the place. Sunny Delight and donuts to be exact. Bless the hearts of those around me. Needless to say, Sunny Delight has forever been my arch enemy. I've forgiven the donuts.

The second time was on my way home from the dentist with my poor older brother after accidentally swallowing too much fluoride. It was awful!

Since then every time I've had that awful feeling, I've literally talked myself out of it. Isn't that pitiful? I just hate it and sweat at the thought of it. Every winter when that awful stomach bug invades itself into every home, I act insane doing everything I can to avoid it. That means I suffer from severe cracked and dry hand disease because hot water and soap become my best friends.

Now do you think I'm weird? I know y'all have some doozies, spill 'em. What are some weird fears you have? Confession time!