Why do we (the collective we) have such irrational fears about things like spiders?

How exciting! Our second question!!!

Dear Ohai Itsme:  I would actually like to challenge this question because fear is not always irrational, especially when it involves spiders.  Irrational fear stems from a mental disorder.  Mental disorders such as phobias are seen in almost every person on this planet.  In fact, I would challenge the word disorder in some cases because it denotes a negative connotation.  Rational fear can stem from multiple sources such as life experiences or a fear of the unknown.  Fear is not uncommon in people and one can stipulate that fear is healthy and can actually keep a person from harm. 

Mental disorders displaying irrational fear are paired with an irrational reaction.  I would like to only point out the extreme cases where, in my opinion, the word disorder is used appropriately.  I once saw a popular television talk show that featured an episode on extreme phobias.  The show wanted to expose their guests to items in which they most feared in order to dispel their irrational fear(s).  There was a woman on this show who had an irrational fear of pickles.  To me and maybe to you as well, it is a delicious pickle; a wonderful side item that couples well with anything from soup to sandwiches.  This woman must have thought a pickle was capable of murder!  She ran from the stage screaming, as though a man with a knife was after her, as a young woman carrying a dill pickle arrived on stage. This is one of those situations where I would agree to call it a mental disorder; when a person is irrationally afraid of an inanimate object. 

A life experience can also trigger anxiety in response to fear.  When we are children, we develop many fears because we do not understand anything!  We fear the stove because we have touched it when it was hot and did not like the pain it induced, the doctor’s office because we do not like the pain of immunizations, or the fear of a certain food because it made you sick that one time.  In time, this fear dissolves because we learn about our surroundings and the reasons why we go to the doctor.  When we are young, these fears develop to keep us from injuring ourselves or becoming sick again.  Personally, I developed a fear of things that sting; bees, wasps, and hornets to be specific, not because the sting hurt, but because I am allergic.  My fear is rational because it helps me survive.

The fear of the unknown is very real and very rational.  In the case of spiders, we know certain spiders have the ability to bite and inject venom that can cause real pain.  For example, if a brown recluse bites you, the venom injected causes your skin and muscle tissue to decay.  If you are bitten by a Black Widow, the poison affects your nervous system and could cause death.  I could continue on with more examples of what certain spiders can do to ruin your life, but the point is there are spiders out there that can cause real harm.  I have not memorized what every spider looks like and the effects of their bite, therefore I have a fear of the unknown that comes with a spider.  If I am bitten by a spider I do not recognize, I don’t know what will happen, so it is best if I just don’t let it near me!

We can say that rational fear is a part of Natural Selection and assists us in survival.  Be proud of your fear, it got you where you are today!

Thank you for your question, and I hope this helps!  Next question please!!!

The Itsy, Bitsy Spider

Allow me to fill you in on a little secret; Afghanistan is very dusty.  It is not your usual dust that comes in cute little bunny forms.  It is a dirty dust.  It is not sand or dirt, but rather a combination of the two in a talcum powder form that hinders breathing and gathers in every crevice imaginable.  This dust forms a cloud upon the slightest impact.  Due the amount of vehicular traffic, there is a permanent dust cloud encompassing the FOB.  I can only imagine what it looks like from the outside looking in; it must be like a superdome but without tangible walls, just dust.  The only time we can clearly see the sun or moon is after it rains.  I have been here roughly thirty days now, and it has rained once for about five minutes and it was only a slight drizzle.  Not positive, but I think the lack of rain contributes to our dust problem.

So, you can see the issue we have with sweeping plywood floors that are covered in this dust brought in by the boots of many Soldiers.  To mitigate this, I went to an amazing website that carries everything from A to Z.  Well, it would be amazing if they shipped everything from A to Z to Afghanistan.  Apparently, the item I chose was unavailable for shipment to a war torn country.  This is not the first time I have encountered this issue.  I tried to order the book “A Tale of Two Cities” from the same site without success due to this same issue.  However, they did ship a book titled “Survival in Auschwitz.”  I found that ironic, but seeing as I needed something on how to survive a horrible situation, I bought it. 

I called home and described my predicament.  To which my wonderful father went to the local hardware store, picked up a Shop Vac and shipped it for less than the internet price without shipping. 

The package arrived and it was like Christmas!  A new toy that will allow us to clean without the choking hazards of dust!  Oh, the thought!  I ripped open the package and with the enthusiasm of a child, I put together my new toy and got right to attacking the dust!  My NCO walks over and offers to clean for me (it really isn’t an officer thing to clean), but I told him I could manage.  He refers to me as a child with a new toy, to which I can only smile about because it’s true.  

I began to remove items from the desk in an attempt vacuum the desk top.  I picked up my personal folder that I have labeled VAO (Voting Assistance Officer) because I know those three letters will keep people from taking an interest in its contents.  My folder contains a certificate of completion for a course I took online, a detailed record of my military service, a reservation for a course I will attend upon returning to the States, and of course some voting information for my Soldiers.  As I pick up my folder, I notice a tiny, clear looking spider on it.  I threw my folder to the air, spreading its contents to the middle of the office floor, while executing a silent scream of terror.  I began to dance a strange jig on top of my paperwork and stomped my feet in an attempt to kill what I could not see, a tiny, tan spider.  All the while, my NCO is staring at me like I am not well in the head. 

I think he realized what was going on, because he politely asked, “Is it my turn to clean now, Ma’am?”

Random Thought

I am not trying to make a political statement.  I am not trying to make you see my point of view on any particular topic.  I just want to share with you some of the random thoughts I have been having.  Please read the entire blog before passing judgment, thank you.

Gun control is the beginning of my random thoughts.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not a “gun-nut,” but I do own a few weapons for personal use.  I would like to state for the record that I have never and will never attempt to use these weapons to harm another human being unless for reasons of self defense. 

I know many people share the belief that weapons are a form of self protection, and that mentality is seen in a lot of countries in which I have been deployed.  I remember my first deployment to Iraq.  We were tasked to set up Iraqi Police Stations and teach the Iraqi Police how to maintain good order and discipline in their cities.  One of the policies the US wanted to enforce, to protect Soldiers and assist in the good order and discipline, was the removal of weapons from households.  Not understanding the culture, the history, or the country, the US wanted to implement policies that were in place in the States, a totally different environment.  The people of Iraq, for a long time, have always depended on self defense for their homes, family, and property.  Taking away their household weapons was not an option in their minds and the US was forced to find an alternate way of lessening violence in these cities.  The policy was adapted to state that each home was only allowed to have one weapon, but even that was viewed as inappropriate for Iraqi’s concerned for their personal safety and security.

Many people use weapons for sport.  Hunting, skeet, and competition shooting are among the top examples.   Weapons can also be used for entertainment.  Here, shoot this apple as it sits on top of my head.  I would never be that person, but no doubt we have all seen it in one form or another.

All this being said, here is my random thought: I find it odd that we can take a large group of people from different countries, cultures, and backgrounds, give them all a weapon or two, all the ammo they require, and we can all still live peaceably amongst each other.

Why is this?

 I began to take this random thought and put some research into it by looking into the commonalities of the people (Foreign Soldiers, US Soldiers, and civilian contractors) on my Forward Operating Base (FOB).  We are all well educated on the use and safety of these firearms.  We all know of the terror beyond the gates and therefore share a common fear.   Perhaps we are focusing our attention on the “enemy” rather than terrorizing each other or maybe we all want to save our bullets for the main reason we have them.  While this may be a stretch, we are all law abiding citizens in that we are serving our countries. 

Law abiding citizens are just that and criminals are criminals.  We can have all the rules in the world, but criminals do not respect the infrastructure put in place to protect its citizens.

I also want to keep in mind the human psyche in that people always want what they can’t have.   So, I guess my question is: why can’t we all live with the respect for each other that we see while on deployment?

Humanity Against All Odds

Great first question and thank you for your responses!  Hopefully our responses were helpful to Queen City Yam and whoever else may have been experiencing the same difficult situation.  Seeing as there are no further questions, I will continue with my experiences here in Afghanistan.

If you remember, I work the night shift and there has been a lot of renovating occurring in my building.  Today, they were actually working in my room.  Their task was to rewire the outlets and replace the lights.  The woman in charge of the project in my building knocked on my door around one o’clock stating they needed to work in the room.  Her accent told me she was German, but I could be wrong.  My roommate had the day off, so she was able to answer the door and make her aware of my presence prior to exiting to continue her day-off activities of lunch and a movie.  I told the lady, they were welcome to work in the room, but that I would remain in bed trying to grasp every ounce of sleep I could muster.  She brought in the translator/electrician who is in charge of the local workers to make him aware of my situation. 

He told her that the task would take longer than the afternoon and they could return in the morning and finish the job by 1100.  In my eyes, this was a perfect idea.  In her eyes, it was unacceptable.  I don’t think she was listening to his suggestion, or perhaps there was a language barrier in play because she started spouting off that there was a chain of command, he was the electrician and that she had no other rooms to offer me.  After this incomprehensible argument, he looked at me, looked at her, looked at the ground, nodded, and left. 

I have to give props to these workers because English was neither of their first languages and both had thick accents.  I am not sure if they have been advised to speak English all the time so everyone knew what they were saying, or if English was the only language they had in common.  The fact that they were able to communicate (somewhat) effectively in a language not of their native tongue was impressive.  I also have to admire the man for ending the argument and not becoming petty that she had not fully understood his intent.

He soon returned with the American foreman and again explained the situation.  The foreman understood what this man was trying to do for me.  So as not to step on the woman’s toes, the foreman suggested they get the receptacles done today and leave the lighting for the next day.  He insinuated that the workers doing the actual work would not be able to work fast enough to get the entire project completed in time to get off post by 6pm as is the rule for local workers. 

I think the translator took this to heart as he gathered his men to begin working in my room.  Amazingly, the workers were as quiet as they could be, assisting me in the task of acquiring as much sleep as possible before starting my shift.  There was little to no communication inside my room, and when talking became necessary, they whispered.  It warmed my heart to experience such humanity in a faraway place where we are considered invaders and women are treated so poorly.  Not only were they quiet enough for me to get back to sleep, but they finished the entire project and there is no need for their return tomorrow morning.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts or perhaps your questions seeking advice.  

"How do I figure out what to do with my life?"

As promised, here is the answer to our first question!  Please add your comments if you think I am a bit off!

Dear Queen City Yam: This is a tough and ongoing question.  At different stages of your life, you will ask yourself this very question, and in between those times, no doubt, you will either think you are on the right track or have forgotten the question. 

I think this question first starts to rear its ugly face about the time you have to choose a major in college.  You wonder what option you should choose that would best suit a future of success.  The thought that this choice will narrow your path in life is a bit frightening.  What you don’t think about is that your choice doesn’t have to limit your future options.  While it does provide you with some purpose and direction, you can major in Political Science and still volunteer as a geologist in your spare time.  Julia Child was a world renowned chef, author, and television personality, but did you know she was once a Top Secret researcher for the Office of Strategic Services and worked for the Secret Intelligence Division?

We must also keep in mind that life changing events can be just that, life changing.  In my own defense, I once wanted to be a Dental Hygienist.  The profession had always interested me from such a young age.  Upon returning from deployment to Iraq, however, and witnessing horrific encounters with behavioral health professionals, I decided that I wanted to pursue a career in psychology so that no one would have to experience such terrible people.  I also began talking with friends who encouraged my career path towards psychology because it came so naturally.  I did some volunteer work at a Behavioral Health Triage Center while doing some training at Fort Hood in Texas. I sat in with a professional who spent most of her time typing away on a computer trying to arrange the perfect provider (psychiatrist, psychologist, or therapist) to talk with the Soldier depending on his/her needs.  Many of the patients coming in for referrals would sit in the small cubical and just start telling me their life stories while the professional searched the options.  It was comforting to see once distressed Soldiers leave the small space with a smile on their face and telling me they were feeling a tiny bit better.  Later in the day, as I was leaving, the professional told me this was an odd occurrence that she had never before witnessed.

Enough about me, back to the question…

The most important thing about life is to surround yourself with people that you like in a position in which you are passionate.  If you hate your job, you are never “stuck,” there is always an option to change what you are doing.  Same goes with the people around you, if unhappiness/discomfort presents itself, you can change or broaden your social circle.  These changes take time though, so please exercise patience when creating change. 

I think Einstein says it best when he says, “Life is like riding a bicycle.  To keep your balance, you must keep moving.”  I know it seems like I just plopped this quote in here, but take a moment to think about it.  Change is movement.  Happiness is balance.  Life isn’t one of those things you can just figure out, because it is ever changing.

In short, do things you like with people you like.  Next question, and lots of input, please =)

Attack of the Monster Cockroach

I realize there was a question posted "How do I figure out what to do with my life?" however, I feel I need to do some research on the question to find the best answer, and I had the darndest thing happen to me today.

Some background on the building in which I work...it is completely made of plywood.  I'm not joking. I spoke with the engineer that is with my unit.  According to him, this structure was built when this location was initially developed (12 years ago).  Buildings like the one we are working out of were originally constructed as temporary facilities to accommodate the rapid growth of the base until a more permanent structure was built.  This building was only supposed to be in existance for five years at a maximum.  Ok, I think I have made my point in that we work in a crappy building.

As you can assume, it is hard to keep out pests when your building is made out of plywood. I wish I had a picture to post, because I doubt anyone can really wrap their minds around the fact that the walls surrounding me are plywood and nothing else. I'm not kidding, walls, floor, ceiling, even my desk is made completely of plywood.  Please, no one strike a match if you come to visit!

As I am starting my shift, I like to enjoy a cup of pumpkin coffee sent to me from someone special ;)
As we all know, coffee tends to go right through you, so about an hour after I have enjoyed my delicious beverage, I look around the office to make sure there is someone there to cover the phones.  My boss was working late today and my partner-in-crime was dutifully at his desk, so I took the opportunity to relieve my poor little bladder.  (Why do all my stories thus far have to do with me using the restroom?)  

I exit the office, make a sharp left (almost like a u-turn) followed by a sharp right and continue towards the conference room in which you must pass through to get to the facilities (unless you want to take the long way around the building).  I notice the conference room has been rearranged to where it is no longer easy to just walk right through.  Now, instead of walking straight through, you must navigate around three long tables, squeeze against a plywood wall, and walk back down the row of tables.  Then you can exit out the other side to the hallway with the water closets.  

Blocking my way out of the conference room was the biggest cockroach I have ever seen!  It was the size of my fist! This is no exaggeration, I have small fists and this cockroach was HUGE!  I froze instantly.  I no longer had to use the lavatory.  I fought the urge to scream like a little girl and navigated my way over the conference room tables telling myself I was a Soldier, there was no need to panic.

I calmly walked back to my partner's desk and politely asked him to do me a favor.  This guy is not small -- 6', 220lbs Mexican -- he went out to investigate, spots the bug and instead of removing the monster, he starts making jokes, stating that they don't even have cockroaches that big in Mexico.  Meanwhile, the creature, no doubt becoming offended by his jokes, is walking towards him!  I take on the cheerleader role and start to beg him to just take care of it.  Around the corner comes our First Sergeant who just nonchalantly walks up to my partner and, stepping on the pest in his path, asks, "What's the matter?" 

I started to laugh as the First Sergeant walked away, again stepping on what was once an obstacle.  It left quite a large splatter, but no worries, I made my partner clean it up since he wanted to make jokes and not do what he was asked.

No worries, tomorrow I will have the perfect answer to the question,  "How do I figure out what to do with my life?" And if my answer isn't all that fantastic, I have all of you to help me get it right!

The Avengers

Since no one is having issues yet, which is a great thing but not the purpose of this blog, I will entertain you with my day.

I work a night shift with one other Soldier.  Our job consists of receiving phone calls, emails, and walk-ins of people in distress for twelve straight hours. 7PM to 7AM to be more specific.  There are eight phones in my office strategically placed in four locations that are ironically as far away from each other as possible.  Four phones have green labels and four have red labels.  A red phone and a green phone are always paired together so one doesn't get lonely.  The green labeled phones are for conversations of little to no importance, while the red phones are for secret conversations and mainly used to conduct business.

After a few days, you get to know who is calling depending on what phone is ringing and you spend most of your night hopping from phone to phone around the office while hoping to make it back to your desk to keep up with the incoming and outgoing emails.  To mitigate all this excessive hopping (no, I don't like to "hop"), I see what phone is ringing and if it isn't going to be important, I send my partner-in-crime to answer it. 

Some nights can get quite tiresome. Picture it, me jumping from desk to desk with my notebook and pen, making it back to my desk to send out an email just in time for another phone to ring.

To add to that mix, I was also given a work related cell phone in which I was instructed, I must answer at all times. I only mention this because the other night I was at the red phone at the very back of the office and my issued cell phone started ringing at the very front of the office...yes, it adds to the interesting.

Anyway, with this in mind, allow me to refresh your memory, in that, when you work nights, you sleep during the day.  I have been having trouble with this lately because of some construction work that is being conducted in my building.  When I say building, I mean "Modular Housing." It is a trailer home with a concrete floor. There are seven rooms on a hallway and a bathroom at the end. I share a room with two nurses who work the day shift, so there are no arguments there! I see one of my roommates in the morning when she is heading to work and one at night when I am heading to work for about five minutes. Today, one of my roommates woke me up before she left to tell me she thinks they might be working in our room today.  I told her to tell them to work around me because I would be sleeping.  She giggled a bit and left.  I was serious, so I don't know why she was giggling.

The Mayor Cell, which oversees projects on our post, hires locals to conduct the labor, so they work from 9AM to 5PM and they must be off post by 6PM (works perfectly with my sleep schedule). Until recently, they had been rewiring our hallway and it sounded like all the construction work was being done by my head! Today, I thought I was going to get some great sleep because I didn't hear them as much as usual, and I had taken an herbal supplement called "Sleep" to get some quality rest.  All I heard was a few electric drill sounds piercing a wall here and there, nothing massive like the previous days.

I woke up around noon, super groggy, eyes glazed over, not wanting to move, but I had to pee...like yesterday!  I crept out of bed, super stiff from a full bladder and a tough mattress.  The rug on the floor protecting my feet from the super cold concrete until I can find my sandals and start to make my way to the door with my eyes still halfway closed.  I unlock the door and peek my head out.  The light is bright and hurts my eyes.  I blink a few times and they start to water.  I think I am becoming nocturnal, but we will keep that story for another day. Satisfied that there are no obstacles in my path to the bathroom, I begin my short walk.  I reach the bathroom door, enter the pincode, and voila! I am in the bathroom...and greeted by four local men on ladders. I must have looked pathetic.  Watery, half closed eyes, hair a mess from sleeping, and sad because I am out of bed three hours too early.  I gave them the saddest puppy dog face I could muster and the woman overseeing their work got up from her chair and started to herd them toward the exit.  Thank Jesus! I saw her in motion and I about ran for a toilet. I thought I might have to do a walk-of-shame upon exiting, but the nice woman sent them outside for a smoke break so I could exit in peace.

Yup, so that was my excitement for the day! To give you some imagery, below is a picture of my bed/area...and yes, I sleep with the Avengers everyday!

Still waiting to hear your questions...until then, enjoy what you get!!!

Why Mama Turtle?

I would like to start out with a brief history of the name Mama Turtle.

It all started in high school (as everything does).  I attended an all girls, catholic, boarding school called Oldenburg Academy.  Also affectionately called the Immaculate Conception Academy in Oldenburg, Indiana.  Believe it or not, I was a shy kid. I know, hard to believe if you know me now, but I was that quiet kid in the corner who just sat there and observed while everyone else chatted away.

The last week of my first year in attendance, one of the Resident Advisers sat down with a group of us at breakfast and was regaling us with stories of our first day at the academy dorms.  She mentioned that I was like a turtle and that once I came out of my "shell" I turned out to be an amazing person. The nickname was born.

That isn't the end of the story though.  After high school, I enlisted into the military as an MP, deployed to Iraq, and upon return was sent to the United States Military Academy Preparatory School (USMAPS) in Fort Monmouth, NJ to transition from a military setting back into an academic setting and ultimately attend the United States Military Academy at West Point. While at USMAPS, I found that I was among the oldest in attendance.  Most of the students were athletes straight out of high school and looking to raise SAT/ACT scores to gain entry into West Point.

Have you ever seen the movie "Master of Disguise"?  In this movie, there is a scene where the main character is trying to fit in at a "Turtle Club" by dressing as a turtle. Much to say, he stood out amongst all the well dressed members of the club as it was more focused on cigars than turtles. While this is not the most amusing movie, this part always makes me smile.  Remember that for a minute.

While on a Field Exercise in Fort Dix, a fellow attendee started playing out this scene in an attempt to tell someone else about this movie.  She started calling out "turtle" to which I responded with "turtle."  We all got a good laugh and from that point on, they called me Turtle...hence the continuation of the nickname.

Seeing as I was one of few attending USMAPS with life experience outside mommy and daddy's house, many students came to me seeking advice on life, relationships, and the Army.  They often called me Mom because I was older and seemingly taking care of them. This role continued throughout my duration at West Point and the nicknames eventually rolled together to form "Mama Turtle."

With all that being said, I am here to continue to assist with whatever life throws at you.

Send me your questions!

Getting started on this blog thing was a little easier than I imagined...now to find out how to share this with others so it is less like I am just rambling to myself!

The point of this blog is not only to share my life's experiences as they occur, but to also help guide friends, family, and sometimes strangers through rough patches in their lives. 

We all have rough patches, and seeing that I am not married and don't have children, perhaps I do not give the best advice in some areas, but that is where you all can chime in and tell me I am wrong and give that person better advice! See, we can work as a team, even on the internet!!! How exciting!

SO! Let's get this party started! Send your questions! And if I don't get questions, I will just talk about my day.  I am currently serving my country in Afghanistan right now, so these blogs could either be really boring or really interesting.  I must admit though, the darndest things happen to me!