Bees. What is there to say about them. They live in honeycombed shaped colonies with millions of look-a-likes that swarm and attack at an instant. They make delicious honey. They are black and yellow black and yellow black and yellow black and yellow black and yellow. You know what it is. What you probably don't know, is that I am petrified of them. So much so, that I've created a false allergy to them so people don't judge me as harshly when I run away from them.
I wasn't always afraid of bees (at least I think I wasn't). I used to find their presence comforting. That soft buzz flying through the air. The fact that they are sexing up the plants. It's all good. But when I was five-ish, my life took a turn for the worse.
My family was visiting the Wisconsin Dells which are in Wisconsin I believe. I think that might be the only real attraction in Wisconsin, unless you like cheese or the Packers. So, we were visiting family and we stopped at this fun destination. My father, being the gentle giant he is, decides to take five year old Brian on a hike up the dells (in the dells? Down by the dells?). We are having a fun time when all of a sudden, there is a buzzing in my ear. I swat it away, but there's another one. And another one. And another one! Based on my dad's spastic movements, he was either dancing, or under the same annoyance I was.
Unfortunately, we were lead right into the path of a beehive. We were attacked, NAY, mauled by these atrocities. I was stung at least two billion times. After running down the path, away from this vicious onslaught, only then did I realized the damage that these rapist bugs can do. I then made it my personal goal to eradicate the world of all bees. Then I found a frog and forgot about that goal.
Yup. So over the last fifteen years of my life, I have slowly been weening myself away from my fear of bees. I can tolerate them now. And stand near them. Which I feel (and my therapist feels) is progress. But I won't stand next to spiders. I fucking hate spiders.
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