Prompt and Circumstance

Aww C'mon... Break it Up!

'precarious' (Oct. 7-9, 2016)

"Supercalafragalisticexpialadocious..." I breathe heavily. "I did it... I REALLY did it this time." Thirty four letters. Didn't know I had it in me. Just kept telling myself 'if Julie Andrews and all those Von Trapp kids could say it, then so can I'.

My forehead's wet, fringe sticking unattractively. I push it back impatiently with the clammy palm of a shaking hand.

A heap of deep breathing and all the willpower I can summon finally relaxes my tightly balled fists. Quietening the pounding heartbeat and stilling the trembling proves tougher as the nausea returns, despite my best efforts to take back control. The words 'panic attack' pop into my mind like the numbers on an old-time cash register, despite my most desperate efforts.

Inhale deeply and blow out a long, noisy breath. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Keep doing that... concentrate ONLY on that... THEN you won't pass out, or vomit, or do any other embarrassing stuff. Inside I'm brave, determined. We SHALL Overcome, I tell myself. Over and over, like a mantra. And it works,truly. I'm getting a handle on this phobia thing.

It wasn't always this way, you know. When I was younger, I had no probs; worked up slowly from five-letter words like... well, like five, until I got comfy with ten-letter words, like precarious. I still like that one... a lot! It perfectly describes how I feel about long words - AND - you can sound it out really well. Still, I always count to be sure. After years of practice, I mastered many fears and words - fifteen-letters, then twenty. Psychopathologically and pseudoscientifically. Now there were a couple of rippers. That psycho/pseudo stuff was most challenging.

I've conquered my Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (thirty six letters!) before. I can do it again... and again. As many times as it takes. How's the irony of my phobia's name being of such gargantuan (a tiny ten-letter word) proportions. The first time I saw it, I had to rush to the 'smallest room'... honestly! Sweat poured out of my painfully prickling scalp and shuddering spine, while thunder pounded in my ears. Man... did that ever demand self-control. Luckily, I had one thing going for me - serious training at pulling logic into the equation. Sometimes it came reluctantly... kicking and shouting and digging its heels in every step of the way. But I learned to persevere against the odds. Break it up into bite-sized pieces - that's what the psychoanalyst told me (twelve-letters) - a stepping stone (thirteen-letters if you hyphenate it) - along my path to recognition and acceptance (an eleven and a ten).

In bite-size language, Hippo- is 'horse' in Greek and potam-os is river. So the first bit is a water horse or Hippopotamus. Some dictionaries use Hippopotamine 'something very large'. Monstr is old Greek for a 'monstrous being' - huge, terrifying. And sesquippedalio is ancient Greek too, meaning 'measuring a foot and a half long'. Same length it looked first time I agonised through it. And phobos - morbid fear. Uh-oh... 'sweaties' start as I find myself in that precarious place... AGAIN. Quick... break it up. Hippo/ poto/ monstro/ sesquipped/ alio/ phobia. See? All things ARE possible.

And the longest English word? It's gonna take a LOT of practice! Short puffs now, deep breaths, heavy sighs. I CAN do it! Mmm... think I'll first just copy and paste and 'study on it' for a L-O-N-G time.

A lung disease with FORTY FIVE LETTERS!

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis