My recent change of residence has created a phobia within me…fear of cardboard boxes. Strange? Perhaps. But as I am living it, I can tell you, it’s my truth.
The definition of a phobia says it’s a strong, irrational fear of something that poses little or no actual danger to the person owning it, where panic, rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, trembling, desire to get away are common symptoms.
The overflow of unpacked moving boxes hidden in my closet is driving me crazy.
I tiptoe past the door, but still hear their contents calling to me, begging for freedom
I’m filled with empathy. But are they planning a coup?
A strange trembling overtakes me. I struggle to breathe yet feel the heart palpitations increase. I feel the fear and panic. There’s only one solution…
I must flee, leave the house…run, run, run…go have fun!
Okay, I may be gone for the day, but who knows what will develop while I’m gone.
Is there a chance the shoemaker’s elf friends will take piety on me, drop by, unpack ‘all that stuff’ and find just the right place for each item?
I’m just going to have to confront my phobia head on if I want to conquer its hold on me.
OKAY! I can do this…but tomorrow