Wednesday, 27 April 2011

My happy place scared the bejezus out of me

People with Anxiety Disorders are supposed to have a safe place to revert to when a freak-out strikes.  A Happy Place.

I'm reluctant to tell you where my Happy Place is, because I don't want all kinds of weird bloggers messing around in my subconscious, snooping through my stuff and moving all the furniture.

So I can't tell you. 

But I can tell you my SECOND Happy Place.  (Yeah I have two.  So what?) 

It's in Hometown.  It's an amazing conservation-type area called Lemoine.  It has miles of natural wooded trails, and a whole range of wildlife, and waves crashing up on shore.  I love it.  I miss it all the time.  

When I was in Hometown last Friday it was the perfect day for Lemoine.  Sunny and warm(ish) and generally very pleasant.   

But who the eff would have thought that all that Spring niceness and happy wildlife would combine to entirely f-ck up my Happy Place?!

Effing snakes. 

Eleven of them. 

Dirty bastards appearing out of effing nowhere along the trails and scaring the effing bejezus out of an already fragile and volatile Anxiety Disorder patient. 

What the f-ck?

So when I saw the first little asshole (and jumped 5 feet with a shout), I went on an immediate and deliberate hunt for a snake stick. 

The purpose of which was to tap in front of me to scare the snakes away before I came across the bastards under my damn feet. 

Like me, but with more anxiety, and wearing a shirt.

The first stick was too small, so I had to bend over to tap it on the ground ahead of me.  Unnatural walking posture.   

The second stick was a trap.  Upon reaching for it, I jumped 10 feet in the effing air and screamed at the top of my lungs because a damn snake wiggled right. next. to. my. hand. 

The third stick was a bad idea.  Thorns. 

The fourth stick was too big.  If you have to heave your snake stick over your shoulder, it's not appropriate for the task at hand. 

I finally found the perfect snake stick and proceeded to tap it along the trail ahead of me the whole damn time.  True story. 

Then when Mom was too much of a baby (yeah, she's the baby) to walk through a mud patch, she suggested we cross the forest to another trail. 

Mom:  "Let's just walk across here."
Me:  *fearful and nearly trembling* "What about *gulp* the snakes?"
Mom:  "Oh Yeah.  Well... just tap your stick across the brush."
Me:  "Noooooo way.  Your idea, your lead." *handing her the snake stick*

Excellent snake sticking Mom.  If any of those effers were underfoot, they were long gone before I got there.  Way to go, supporting your child - the hopeless neurotic wreck. 



  1. The very first thing I did the very first time I ever got behind the wheel of a car was run over a snake. I'm still not sure whether that was a good omen, or a bad omen.

  2. I am not afraid of snakes (it's my only badass trait), but my almost-21-year-old son is terrified of them. I am perhaps not as good a mother I could be in protecting him from snakes. But it's just so FUNNY to see him run and scream like a girl. Yeah, I'm evil.


  3. Angela - Brutal! He had it coming.

    Handflapper - You *are* a badass. I had a boyfriend in high school who was petrified of snakes. He would basically scream whenever he saw one - even just on tv. I'm not *that* bad, at least.

  4. If someone even says snake, my feet go right up. Years ago my hubby and I had a crazy black lab, Casey, and when I was walking him early one morning, I saw a dead snake on the side of the road.

    Before I could move away, he grabbed it in his mouth and was jerking it around. Oh My Gawd! Yes, it was dead but it freaked me the eff out. I was screaming and laughing at the same time so I'm sure my neighbors were really happy about the wake up call I gave them.

    Another time we were at a park and there was a snake sunning itself on the sidewalk. My dog lunged for that one but I was too quick. I pulled him away and nearly peed my pants. Good times!

  5. I can deal with snakes. Do NOT bring me a spider. Miss Muffet ain't got nothin' on me.

  6. Elle - Now THAT is exactly why I don't have a dog!

    L.A.C.E - I'm not good with spiders either. They freak me out and I get all jittery. But snakes make me jump a mile and shout bloddy murder. No, I don't know why!

  7. I think a seeing eye dog would have also been in order...that would have also scared the bejesus out of the snakes...I think...but I'm not snake expert so don't take my word for gospel!

  8. Sandra, I love that idea! I should keep a seeing eye dog by my side all the time. I could train him to steer me clear of all the anxiety-inducers before I get there.

  9. Aw, hun, I SO feel for you.

    We tried a walking trail a few years ago. I actually approached a coiled pile of somethig there... realized a split second too late that it was a mothereffing snake... then was shocked when the fucker was ALIVE, apparently sunning itself, before it took off TOWARDS me.

    Anxiety sucks, too.

    I loved your Homer caption. And your brave mom. My mom hates snakes worse than I do, so she'd have been cowering back in the car after bastard snake #1.


  10. Aw, thanks. Mom hates snakes too, but apparently mud is a bigger issue.