Tuesday, 6 November 2007

Fired

I've often said that the only thing that could make me believe in reincarnation is my fear of fire.

Er, no. Let's rephrase that. I'm not afraid of fire; I am, however, very much afraid of being burned. Not that anyone (well, mostly anyone) looks forward to being burned, of course... it's just that I'm morbidly afraid of it. Have been for as long as I can remember.

The weirdness comes in when I tell you that I've never been seriously burned in my life, and the few minor burns I've had haven't been caused by fire. Hot pots and the occasional curling iron, yes. One small chemical burn back in university, I think, but that's it. Overall, nothing in my experience should have caused me to have nightmares about burning.

I did, though. Fairly often, even, when I was a child.

It was enough to keep me away from things like hot stoves, which sounds like a good thing for my personal safety until I mention that it kept me away from things like hot stoves right into my teen years. My poor mother -- I'm sure she thought I'd never have a hope of learning to cook for myself. She tried very hard to teach me, but in the end she decided to make me take Home Ec in junior high school instead. I suppose she figured that my fear of being burned would be trumped by my fear of getting bad grades.

Smart move. I learned to cook, but it was torture.

As I've gotten older I've managed to get past the fear for the most part. There are tricks. Using full-hand oven mitts rather than just pot-holders around the stove helps, for example. The brain convinces itself that the hands are suitably protected, and you get on with things.

I even learned to make a decent campfire one summer when the fellow I was doing campground shows with turned out to be completely pathetic at that facet of the job (I seem to remember that there was a lot of paper, a lot of matches, and a lot of blowing involved, which usually leads to a lot of paper ash blowing around and not much actual fire...). It's amazing what you can make yourself do when there's no other choice.

The question remains, however. What could make a young child who's never had any experience with fire or burning become so completely afraid of it? Oh, and before anyone guesses at my secret history of abuse... no. Thankfully, I can honestly say that I've never had to deal with that kind of horror. I was a neurotic child (makes sense. I'm also a neurotic adult) and was afraid of a lot of things.

I was terrified of fire.

Weird, huh.

I've jokingly said on occasion that it must be because I was burned at the stake in a previous existence. I don't really believe it, but it's kind of an interesting possibility. Could something like being burned at the stake (or, more realistically, dying in a house fire or a cooking fire. Cooking fire accidents, after all, used to be one of the top causes of death for women. Or at least I think that's what I heard on one of those Food Network shows) create so much terror in a being that it transfers over to that being's next life?

Really? I doubt it. I'm still going with the theory that I'm just not hooked up especially right.

For one thing, it goes too well with the rest of my life to be ignored.

In the meantime, do me a favour and keep that lighter away from me, ok? I'm afraid I don't have my oven mitts with me just now, and without them I might cry...



Yes, that last bit made no sense. I don't care.

Shut up and prepare the wine gums for tomorrow's t.v. club meeting, already.

2 comments:

smudgers said...

Morbidly fearful of fire and she posts photos of cats.

What theme?

deeol said...

Oh hush.






No, really. Hush!

Geez.

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