Pogonophobia (The Fear of Beards)

Taz here.

Phobia's have always been something of an interest to me. They reflect upon us-who we are as people, what we've done, how life has effected us. On the day of our birth, we're not handed phobias like gifts-here you go, have some claustrophobia, no no I insist, and your aunt brought some nyctophobia as well-we develop them. In fact, we're born with only two fears; the fear of falling, and the fear of loud noises.

For those who don't know, a phobia (according to thefreedictionary.com) is a "persistent, abnormal, and irrational fear of a specific thing or situation that compels one to avoid it, despite the awareness and reassurance that it is not dangerous." Pretty much, it's a fear of something that doesn't make sense. You know you're being silly-the spiders smaller than you're fingernail, it's harmless-but that doesn't mean you're not going to run away screaming if the spider lands on your desk. The fear of spidies, by the way, is dubbed arachnophobia.

So how do we get phobia's then? Practically every single TV show seems to suggest that they are developed based on our childhood experiences and environment. Which is true-so yeah, TV can be educational. Another cause is traumatic experiences-following a car crash you might find yourself fearing being in a car. (amaxophobia) Following a bad bout of depression during which you sharpened pencils everyday, you could have a phobia of pencils. (aichmophobia) One of the most common reasons, which doesn't make it into the media because it's not half as exciting, is simply a fear of the unknown. A lot of phobia's spring from just not understanding or being unable to fathom the object or instance of a fear.

Interesting stuff, right?

I myself, am luckily not suffering from any phobias. I used to be terrified of spiders, but overcame that by forcing myself to pick up and name any spiders that wondered into my path. (Yes, my parents asked who I was talking to) Needles, however, while not bringing me to phobia level, are a serious threat. There pointy presence leads me to dramatic near-fainting experiences in which I hastily sit down, clutch my inner wrists and wish I wasn't so aware of my knees. I admit my reaction isn't typical.

But no chance will that hold me back-I have great intentions to give blood when I'm older. I'll just work from what I know works-I'll adopt stray needles, give them names and a good cuddle, and send them on their way. What could possibly go wrong?

What about you-Do you have any irrational fears?