Time to come clean: I’ve been making up bullshit phobias to gain some sort of sympathy and attention from my co-hosts. Turns out, these heartless bastards could give 2 shits about my anxieties so now I turn to you the listener, loyal Mistorians, in hopes of winning your compassion. Okay, Enochlophobia is a real thing. And I actually suffer from it. I don’t know why I just called it bullshit. I blame a lack of an editor. And John Banks. I hate to illicit pity from that grey-bearded fuck! Granted, I never stop talking about my anxieties so I fear that I have become the Canadian that cried wolf.
In case you are reading this entry before having listened to our latest episode, Enochlophobia is the fear of crowds. While not uncommon for many to dislike being in crowded spaces such as NYC on New Year’s Eve or attending a Justin Bieber concert, those that suffer from this phobia can experience much more than discomfort. It can lead to full-blown panic attacks and terrible dread. If you’ve never suffered a panic attack, it is easy to dismiss as sensitive people being dramatic about their feelings. Nope. Imagine the thought of impending death as a snake is wrapping itself around your mind tighter and tighter. Along with the thoughts comes physical symptoms such as a racing heart, uncontrolled vertigo, sweating, disorientation, maybe throw in a dash of depersonalization and you’ve got a recipe for shaking and peeing for the next hour or day.
The next time your friend rejects an invitation to your kegger or willingness to cheer you on at the end of your half marathon, please understand that they may be fighting something bigger than not wanting to endorse your narcissism. They probably just hate you. And crowds. They may hate being in crowds.