I hid in a bathroom this weekend. But I think my phobia is getting better.
I should probably explain.
I am terrified of storms. Scared to death. Hands-shaking-palms-sweating-stomach-in-knots-hide-in-a-closet-refuse-to-leave-the-house scared.
I don’t know why; it’s always been that way.
My parents say that even as little kid I would come running the minute the warning beep beep beep came across the television. I could hear that sound from anywhere, no matter what I was doing.
I would come running into the room and ask them to tell me what it said. To which they would reply, “It says it’s looking for little girls named Kate.” Nice.
When I was a little older and could read it myself I would ask, “Where is Hoke County? Where is Duplin County? Where is that to us? Is it coming here?”
To which they would reply, “Yes, it’s specifically looking for Kate and is coming to get her.”
They think my fear is funny. And probably a little ridiculous. And somewhat irrational. So does my husband.
Maybe it is a little ridiculous. And it is completely irrational.
In the past, I have refused to leave the house if it looks like it might thunder. Make plans for Saturday? Umm…no, sorry, can’t. Forecast calls for thunderstorms.
You think I’m exaggerating.
So anyway back to this weekend. We were under a tornado warning so I hid in the bathroom with my blanket, cell phone and bottle of water. My husband laughed.
The upside to dating for 7+ years before getting married is that he is well aware of my particular brand of crazy. He is not surprised when I start pacing the minute the sky clouds up. He is not surprised when he wakes up in the middle of a storm and I am sitting in the closet.
So this weekend, when I gathered my supplies and went to hide in the guest bathroom (the most interior room of our house) he just laughed and started the dishwasher.
You’re probably wondering how this could possibly mean that my fear of storms is getting better. Fair enough.
See, despite what the rest of you may think, I think hiding from a an actual tornado warning (meaning one is active in the area) is perfectly reasonable. Have you seen the Wizard of Oz?
(Side note: I HATE that movie. Who decided that was appropriate for children? Tornadoes that tear your house away, evil witches, creepy wizards, flying monkeys…lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Not cool. The only good part of that movie is the color-changing horse…and the Emerald City is still creepy as hell.)
But the rest of the weekend…I did not hide. Nope nope. I went out and did things. Even outside things.
All week I wanted to go to the arts market. The outside arts market. So I did. Event though it was cloudy and a little rumbly.
I went out to dinner in the middle of a very loud and flashy storm. (And we made excellent drive time because the power was out and there were no stoplights. Jacob’s reasoning for not stopping was…big road wins!)
Sunday morning, even as I watched the weather channel and they told me not to leave the house, I made plans to go to brunch just as the storm would arrive. And I actually went!
At no point did I cancel my plans because it was thundery-looking. This, if you ask me, is a huge win and means I am getting much braver.
I deserve a cupcake.