Understanding a Germaphobe 101

Mysophobia (Verminophobia) (from Greek μύσος - musos, "uncleanness"[1] and φόβος - phobos, "fear";[2] colloquially germophobia/germaphobia, a combination of germ and phobia to mean "fear of germs", as well as bacillophobia, and bacteriophobia) is a pathological fear of contamination and germs. 

As most of you know by my Facebook posts, or by actually knowing me in real-life (BIG DIFFERENCE); I am a super germaphobe. I will say that I have come quite a ways in my short life, but my trade-mark handshakes fool no one, I am still noticeably irritated by physical contact to say the least. Here's some facts about someone who has germ-anxieties, to help you better understand why you aren't helping at all when you say things like " germs are good for you" (we know that! shut up, seriously, shut up.).

1) most germ anxieties stem from even bigger anxieties that hide beneath the surface.

2) most of the time our tendencies are actually based on an obsessive compulsive feeling because obsessive compulsive disorder, germaphobia, hypochondriasis,  and general anxiety disorders come from the same place: fear of losing-control. 

3) no, germaphobes are not freaks; we just cope with our anxiety in a different way than you. Oh gosh, how horrible, someone avoids germs and cleans things excessively, I can't think of any other coping method that could be more horrible...(Sarcasm)

4) no, it's not just your hand. It's every single hand, EVER. To make this easier to understand; imagine that you have a common fear: the fear of spiders. You know that feeling that you get when you see one and want to scream and run away? Imagine that every time you go to shake someone's hand, a big fat ugly spider is sitting on it. PLEASANT. 

Many people (dumb people mainly) (kidding, but not really) (but kidding) (but not really), will ask me "well how come you can't just stop?" It's the same reason you don't jump off buildings and inhale water; fear. Although this fear seems irrational to most, it's a fear no less rational than the fear of death; because isn't that what all of our fears stem from anyway? And, if you ask me; death is a the most rational fear anyone could have ever.

Yeah, maybe there's a few steps between getting germs on your hands and dying (or maybe not), but there's also a few steps between jumping off a building and dying too (BAHAHAH, so morbid. Sorry, excuse my offensive sarcasm).

Facts

The worst part of a germaphobes' day is pressing the button to cross the street.

When you say baby, you might as well say germ.

We hold our breath in public restrooms.

When we say we're sick and don't want to shake your hand, we really mean we don't want to touch you

Now that you're all educated on the matter:

Here are some really good Gifs to even further your education about germaphobes.

What our ghost hand does every time someone tries to shake our real hand

How you think you're hugging us

How we think you're hugging us

How you think a handshake should go

How we think a handshake should go

How you think you look when you're laughing in our faces

How you look to us when you're laughing in our faces

Food for thought,


Han B.

Leaving your parents- The post grad chronicles

As many of you know (or may not know), I recently made the adventure of relocating from Michigan to Los Angeles! Having been here nearly a month now, I thought it would be a good time to talk about my post grad life experiences thus far.

THE MOVE

My mom so dared to endeavor on a week-long journey out to California with me in my little Veloster. We ran into some pretty tricky nights, including one where all of the highway got swept away by a flood, and left me thinking "why the fuck am I moving out here?" despite the fact that moving out to LA is all I've ever dreamed of. The next day we drove almost 300 miles out of the way to use the only other existing highway that was ridden with miles and miles of stand-still traffic, and again I thought " why the fuck am I moving out here?". We stopped and stayed with friends for the night in Las Vegas and with about 100 miles left in our tank, took off the next morning, only to find when we stopped for gas, the ENTIRE TOWN was out of power (which means NO GAS!). So, with about 40 miles left in the tank, we embark on a 40 mile trip to the next town over, hoping they have power and gas. 

Picture this:

My adorable little mom and myself in a tiny car, packed with everything I own, driving 40 in a 70, with the windows up, bellies out, dripping sweat, and praying we won't be human jerky in this 105 degree weather; all while thinking we are being more gas efficient in our efforts. And again I think to myself "WHY THE FUCK AM I MOVING OUT HERE?!".

Just two hours out of LA, I get an email from a potential employer asking if I can meet with him in; wait for it... 3 hours! The answer is yes, not because I want it to be, but because it has to be, because NO, I AM NOT TOO BUSY TO TRY AND IMPRESS YOU SO THAT I CAN ACTUALLY AFFORD TO EAT. 

We skate into town with 45 minutes to spare, I jump in the shower and we're off to my interview before I can even take a breath. 

AT A STARBUCKS JUST MINUTES LATER

We pull up to the curb and have the quick discussion of how we don't know each other and how we will avoid looking like we came together ( because who wants to hire someone who showed up to an interview with their mommy????) and next thing ya know I'm sitting across from a stunning man offering me a job on the spot while I avoid eye contact and overly excited giggles with my mom sitting just on the other side of the courtyard. 

HIRED

LUCKIEST GIRL ON PLANET

OH YEAH, THIS IS WHY I MOVED OUT HERE

If you hadn't guessed it already, about mid-interview, I guiltily pointed out my mother in the courtyard and word-vomitted to my future employer that she had come along because I had just gotten into town, which he took surprisingly well. 

DAYS FOLLOWING THE HIRRIVAL

My dad joins us out in California for my parents 29th anniversary, which they spend putting together Ikea furniture with me in my brand new apartment. 

I HAVE THE BEST PARENTS EVER

After a couple days of setting everything up and shopping and shopping more, it's time for my parents to leave. I bring them to the airport and attempt to keep them here forever. FAIL. Ever since grade school, I have been as independent as a girl can be. I went to summer camps for months; for many summers of my childhood, and never had problems with being homesick, but nothing could have prepared me for this moment of realization. I didn't even feel torn, I just felt like I didn't want to be away form my parents, EVER. The icky feeling of real adulthood set in and I cried. 

Yes, read it a couple times if you need to, I CRIED. 

I balled like a baby while I drove around that stupid airport traffic circle for hours while I tried to find my way out through blurry eyes and asshole drivers. 

I finally found my way home to my empty-stale apartment, where I had to sleep alone that night...and the rest of the nights to come. 

If you think you will never have this moment, I promise that you will. It will be the night you turn the keys, open the door and peak into a strange empty place called post-grad life that exists only for those who dare leave home. 

I realize that this moment probably happens a lot sooner or a lot later for some people (no matter your family dynamic), but nonetheless, I encourage you let it all out and cry like a baby too, because It's scary and growing up is scary too. 

Here's a couple things that have saved me in the past month:

1. Skype- skype the shit out of everyone who reminds you of home. 

I could only think of one. But don't worry, I will be writing my next post on "How to live in LA alone-as a semi-introverted, germophobic, female" later, so look forward to that.

Plenty of tips to come!

-Han B