Irrational Fear Comics: Wait A Minute

We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers. 

A three panel comic labeled "Irrational Fear Comics," from sneer campaign and Amanda Wood.

Panel 1: "For as long as I can remember," says the text, "I have gotten scared when I see a digital clock moving to the next minute." We see young Amandoll in her bed looking with worry at the clock that just says 1:02.

Panel 2: The text says, "Whenever I have seen it change, I deliberately don't look again for a while because I don't want to risk seeing it twice in a row, even to this day." Grown up present day Amandoll shields her eyes from a clock reading 4:22.

Panel 3: Words say, "I've always worried that I;m much more likely to die in a minute that I have seen a clock move and I have no reason why that is." The images are of a clock reading 3:54 and an extreme close up of a panicked Amandoll face sweating.

This is one of those irrational fears that has been such a part of my life for so long that I forgot that it was in fact irrational. Partly because I probably realized that it was irrational decades ago and so never mentioned it to anyone, and no one has ever noticed me closing my eyes for what I think is a full minute, or turning away from a clock. No one has ever confronted me that my belief is deranged.

When I was little, I would be consumed by dread when I would see one minute change to the next — nowadays, I only remember that I have believed this every single time it happens. I try not to check my phone time, or fitbit time on my wrist, or even the bottom corner of my laptop, just in case I would see the minute flip to the next minute. It is beyond a habit at this point; it is my lifestyle.

I’m not sure what caused me to think that looking and catching it twice in a row meant that death was imminent, but whenever that happens, I practically hear a very dramatic bell tolling, tolling for me.

Since the fear is less pronounced now that I am older, I have found myself wondering if, as I age and become elderly, I will start looking at the clocks again. And I wonder if it will actually be the last thing I see before I conclude. I suppose only time will tell — but will anyone else know but me? I hope so, but what if only I see the time, give a weak chuckle, and then my lights go out without anyone noticing the clock? Oh no. I’ve made myself sad.

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