Fear, and the psycho next door

Coyotes. I never had reason to fear them. That was until I visited the Parks and Wildlife booth at our local springtime maple syrup festival. Mounted on a table was a stuffed coyote, its massive snarling yapper and menacing jagged-claws threatening me from beyond the grave. Suddenly, these wolf-sized creatures stopped being the cute and cuddly fox-like canines I somehow thought they were.

Now something like this generally wouldn't effect me, except for the fact that the forests surrounding my neighbourhood are teeming with these deadly grey beasts. Often while walking my hulking seven-pound Papillon guard dog Bo-bo, I hear the chilling howl of the coyote packs. And I'm not the only one getting freaked out here.

While conferring with neighbours, I often hear stories of old folks out for their evening strolls being stalked by lone coyotes. One senior even resorted to carrying a spiked-cane in a vain attempt to ward off any hypothetical attack by the sneaky varmints.

Most of the time I'd take these tales with a grain of salt. Problem is, it's all starting to effect me. Going for walks now leaves me feeling like a shell-shocked vet, with every snap of a twig sending me scanning for the tell-tale silhouette of a stalking coyote.

I guess I've probably grossly exaggerated the threat in my own head, because I can't recall hearing of anyone being taken down in a coyote attack (at least not in my area). My bet is that they'd rather feast on a bunny rabbit or a tethered wiener dog then tackle a six-foot tall man, but something inside me has changed toward the outdoors – and placed in me a fear I never had before.

Funny thing is, until I had a family of my own I feared little. I walked when and where I wanted. I killed spiders (although millipedes and snakes and anything else that slithers fast kinda freaks me out), climbed 40-foot ladders, skydived and did pretty much anything else without fretting about it. Perhaps the lack of concern was due to the naivety and ignorance of my youth -- that invincibility complex older generation's like to remind the young about.

I suppose there are several types of fears. Childhood fears are usually illogical and based on lack of understanding or untruthful representation by those is authority (parents). These usually include things like fear of the dark, or dogs -- or that the bedroom ceilings and walls are going to cave in.

You figure by the time most of us reach adulthood, we've outgrown such concepts. But over my short 32 years, I've found that a lot of people haven't. If anything, those fears are as powerful today as they were when they were five.

Often times fear is created through trauma or violence -- events like combat, car accidents or assault. That's not always the case though. An experience that may deeply affect one person may have little bearing on another.

When I was in college, my fiance (now wife) and I had just gotten off a bus in the inner city after a lovely day at the mall. Unbeknownst to us we were followed by a gang, who quickly initiated (what turned out to be) a fight for our lives. Never in my life had I experienced an adrenaline rush like this – tunnel vision, loss of hearing, heart pounding in my chest.

Perhaps they didn't expect me to fight back. And after a fury of punches I dived my way out of the swarm, over a snow pile and onto a busy city street.

And from a distance I watched helpless as a few of them continued the assault on my fiance. Exhausted and battered, I collected myself enough to make it back to her. Thanks to the intervention of a bystander, we made it home relatively intact.

For days after I refused to wear the jacket and hat I had been wearing the night of the attack for fear of being spotted by the gang. My overall senses were heightened, and my mind was full of all kinds of irrational thoughts like “what if they find out where I live” or “where can I get an Uzi.”

To this day, I carry this experience with me. The event took my “fear virginity” as it were, leaving me a little less trusting and a little more cautious every where I go.

But I have other fears: fears of improperly cooked chicken, fears of my bi-polar psycho neighbour showing up at my door with a loaded shotgun – and the like. However I think these fears are not necessarily irrational. Most are based on real-world experiences that had significantly threatened my physical existence.

I do find it interesting when other's fears become apparent. Usually it comes as a surprise that someone is afraid of this or that. I've known people to be afraid of some strange stuff: balloons, clowns, and even seaweed. And then there's the usual suspects: mice, heights, flying, sharks, claustrophobic spaces, and Elvis impersonators.

One time I witnessed a fully grown and otherwise normal looking man have a panic attack in a public washroom. Unable to pick out a suitable stall, he left the washroom in frustration only to return with his middle-age father. His father then visited each toilet stall, offering his opinion on whether or not it was suitable for his son to perform a #2. Eventually the whole thing was just too much for the poor guy, and he broke down and left.

But fear is also contagious, if not hereditary. Look at how many children inherit their parents dislike of dogs or insects or heights or blood. And when fear grips an entire society, it gets a lot worse. Events like the overblown H1N1 flu pandemics or child kidnappings are just such examples, where everything from random rumours to over-repeated media coverage seem to intensify the paranoia and make everyone think that everyone else is infected or going to steal your children.

The fear of the unknown is a powerful force, and is an easy emotion for society to embrace -- particularly if the circumstances in question are unfamiliar, uncommon and dramatic/horrific.

And it makes for great entertainment too. Horror films by far prey on the mostly irrational fears we all have: It's dark. You're in the woods, alone. And a guy in a hockey mask is chasing you with a chainsaw... I mean, who wouldn't be freaked out? And what would those Japanese monster films be without the hilarious screaming masses?

And fear is not simply psychological. Often the physiological effects of what fear does to the body is quite profound. While not a doctor, I can tell that my mother-in-law's “jumping onto the couch to avoid a tiny spider” routine is probably an automatic reaction, and not one actively thought out or internally debated. Then there's the sweaty palms, the heart palpitations, the tossing of the stomach -- reminds me of grade school speeches.

Inevitably, I believe it is our innate sense of self-preservation that causes us to collect (and exhibit) fears as we age – accompanied by the instinct to protect one's family -- that drives us mad with what-if's and worry.