Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself

Dr. Carolyn Lee reflects on a different cliché each week. Recently, in her blog, “A Penny Saved,” she discussed marketing ploys and the value of having a lifetime supply of Diet Coke. This week Carolyn explores the cliché, nothing to fear but fear itself.

Learn more about Dr. Carolyn Lee on her biography page or investigate 29 more clichés in her latest book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And other Clichès to Live by.

Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself

Franklin Delano Roosevelt said that in his 1933 Inaugural address, and people have been quoting him ever since. I wonder if he knew that there really is such a thing as fear of fear or fear of being afraid. It’s called phobophobia, and it is a very real and complex disorder. It can affect every aspect of a person’s life, making it difficult to function at work, school, or in social situations.

I first became interested in phobias when I realized I had a couple of them. My aversion to noise was one, and it has become more and more apparent over the years. I am experiencing it at this very moment, as a matter of fact, as my lawn guy is operating his leaf-blower about ten yards from where I am sitting. I have, as I always do, repressed my desire to go out there, wrestle him to the ground and jump up and down on that horrible piece of equipment. I believe operating a leaf-blower should be a felony. Well, maybe a misdemeanor. Hearing one makes it difficult for me to function at work, school, and in social situations. That means I definitely have phonophobia. 

It isn’t that I fear noise as much as I hate it. I guess someday it will be impossible for me to eat a meal in a restaurant, because they are all just too noisy for me. Sitting in the midst of diners, all of whom are screaming at each other or shrieking with laughter while loud music is playing in the background is torture for me. I’ve heard that some people actually like dining in that kind of atmosphere. They believe noise and loud music are hip, indications that they are in a place where it’s happening. When I consider possibilities for dining out, I am looking for a place where it isn’t happening.       

Coupled with my phonophobia is my ochlophobia, which is defined as “an extreme or irrational fear or dislike of crowds.” I recently read that attending a live concert is on every individual’s bucket list, that everyone longs to see Taylor Swift or Garth Brooks from an arena filled with screaming fans. No, not everyone. For me, nothing takes the fun out of an event more than experiencing it with a mob of people. A well-behaved audience, maybe, but a mob? No. Definitely not. Ochlophobia prevents me these days from visiting popular tourist sites. Seeing the Fountains of Trevi or the Tower of London or the Palace of Versailles with thousands of tourists, all of whom are jockeying for positions from which to get good selfies is not my idea of fun. Not long ago, I drove to Walden Pond of Thoreau fame, and it was, as Snoopy would say, “way too peopley.”  But last year I visited the Lake Isle of Innisfree, described by W.B. Yates in his lovely poem, and nobody else was there. Aaaaahhhhhh. 

Is there such a thing as a fear of the telephone? Sure enough. Telephonophobia is “reluctance or fear of making or taking phone calls.” Yep, I have that one, too. And no wonder. The thought of making a call in which I question a bill, or ask for the waiving of a late fee, or attempt to cancel a subscription causes me to experience the standard symptoms of anxiety: nervous stomach, sweaty palms, rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, nausea, dry mouth, and trembling. I dread hearing all the recordings in which I am advised of the changing menus of selections; I don’t want to hear anyone tell me a hundred and fifty times that my call is important to him. I definitely don’t want anyone to try to sell me anything or renew that subscription I am trying to cancel. 

Just for fun, I went to Google to see if there were such a thing as a fear of commercials and advertising. Yes, indeed. It’s called diaphimisticophobia, and I have an advanced case. It seems that most people who experience this particular malady hate or fear commercials of a particular type. Mine would be commercials of the pharmaceutical type. I fairly leap for the mute button when I’m in danger of hearing one more word about Xeljanz, Trulicity, or Eliquis. I clamp my hands over my ears when some actor in a phony white coat, with a phony stethoscope draped around his neck wants to talk to me about my bipolar depression or my moderate to severe psoriasis. Seventy-five percent of the commercials currently playing on television are for pharmaceutical products. None of those products help to alleviate diaphimisticophobia, however. 

The list of phobias from which we suffer is long, and much of it taxes one’s credulity. I’m happy to say there are a number of phobias I don’t have. Did you know there was such a thing as alektorophobia, the fear of chickens? I’m very courageous in the company of chickens. Bibliophobia, the fear of books? Eniophobia is an overwhelming fear of chins. And there are phobias about other body parts: knees, elbows and bellybuttons. One of the longest words in the dictionary is Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia. Not surprisingly, it refers to a fear of long words. So it seems there are folks who are afraid of everything under the sun. Actually, they’re afraid of the sun, too. Fear of the sun is called heliophobia, and it was once considered a telltale sign of vampires and other fantasy creatures. Understandably, one’s heliophobia could lead to sanguivoriphobia, which is a fear of vampires.  Okay, this has gone far enough. I’m afraid I might be writing too much. Is there such a thing as a fear of writing? Of course: graphophobia. The End.

Want to Read More?

Check out Dr. Carolyn Lee’s blogs on her website, she features a new cliché each week or you can order her new book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. Curious about the author? Read more about Carolyn here. We hope you enjoyed this article learning more about the cliché, nothing to fear but fear itself.