Telephone
Have you ever tried to reach me on the phone? It borders on impossible.
I HATE talking on the phone. Well, that's not true; I don't actually mind talking once a connection has been made. What I HATE is dialing out. And I HATE picking up to numbers I'm not familiar with. If I didn't have caller ID, my phone would never get answered. If you don't have a special ringtone on my phone, you can just count on leaving a message. But don't count on me returning it.
I can worry for days about a call I know I must make. I can make myself sick over it. Simple things like arranging for a babysitter or making VT appointments make me want to crawl under my bed and hibernate or run to the bathroom and throw up. I become mentally paralized and stall out for days, accomplishing nothing but worry. To say nothing of just calling someone in order to chat. I can't. And unless I am talking to Kristin or Dave, the conversation will be very stilted if I manage to make the call at all.
The really ironic thing is that I LOVE my phone. It's pink.
I don't go anywhere without my phone. I take pictures with it. I use it as an alarm clock. It reminds me when it is time to do the vacuuming. It notifies me 10 minutes before I must be somewhere. It tells me when your birthdays are (sadly, it does not get you a present). It calculates appropriate tips for my server at the restaurant (I actually do use this feature). It plays me music whenever I wish it to. It stores my text files on a teeny tiny little card in its underbelly. I use it for facebook and occasionally twitter. It sends me my email. I use it for text-messaging. But when it rings, notifying me there is a live individual on the other end wishing to speak to me, I choke.
So my question is, do you think death therapy would be a good treatment for this?
I HATE talking on the phone. Well, that's not true; I don't actually mind talking once a connection has been made. What I HATE is dialing out. And I HATE picking up to numbers I'm not familiar with. If I didn't have caller ID, my phone would never get answered. If you don't have a special ringtone on my phone, you can just count on leaving a message. But don't count on me returning it.
I can worry for days about a call I know I must make. I can make myself sick over it. Simple things like arranging for a babysitter or making VT appointments make me want to crawl under my bed and hibernate or run to the bathroom and throw up. I become mentally paralized and stall out for days, accomplishing nothing but worry. To say nothing of just calling someone in order to chat. I can't. And unless I am talking to Kristin or Dave, the conversation will be very stilted if I manage to make the call at all.
The really ironic thing is that I LOVE my phone. It's pink.
I don't go anywhere without my phone. I take pictures with it. I use it as an alarm clock. It reminds me when it is time to do the vacuuming. It notifies me 10 minutes before I must be somewhere. It tells me when your birthdays are (sadly, it does not get you a present). It calculates appropriate tips for my server at the restaurant (I actually do use this feature). It plays me music whenever I wish it to. It stores my text files on a teeny tiny little card in its underbelly. I use it for facebook and occasionally twitter. It sends me my email. I use it for text-messaging. But when it rings, notifying me there is a live individual on the other end wishing to speak to me, I choke.
So my question is, do you think death therapy would be a good treatment for this?
Comments
All I know is...after my ride on the spider boat, I have been able to crush any spider that stands in my way rather than be paralyzed with fear or manically runing the streets or just putting the house up for sale.
Just try calling everyone in your phone book just to say...hey.
You lack the social skills on the phone, but you are cute as all get out! Our butts and faces look good too. Death Therapy, hmmm.... maybe if it would cure your phobia of the phone. You have an unnatural nack for stressing out and that causes physical pain in your neck and shoulders the knot factor as I call it. Let's face it, as Red Green would say, "we're all pulling for you, we're in this together".