Yesterday, at a family gathering to celebrate both my father and my younger brother’s birthdays, I was struck a couple of times by just how odd and neurotic I can be about some things. Most of the time I think I’m relatively healthy, and “over” my childhood, but conversations like those I had yesterday bring back just how much it all still affects me. I have to explain that I’d rather drive across the country than fly because I don’t like the “hassles” of airport security, when what I really mean is that having people search me, touch me, examine me, etc., dealing with crowds of people and not having any personal space makes me incredibly uncomfortable. That by the time I arrive at my destination I’m emotionally exhausted, not because I have a fear of flying or that the trip itself is tiring, but because I’m forced to deal with all of these people and their rules, and have no control over any of it!
Gee and that’s just the airport, don’t even get me started on doctors, or the sight of mayonaisse. Those things I am truly neurotic about! Guess I’m not as healthy and well-adjusted as I think I am, eh?