Large bodies of water, the emptiness of the sea, and being far from land have one thing in common. The fear associated with them. And that fear has a name: Thalassophobia.

When I was in the bath as a young child, I would be afraid to wash my hair. It meant that I would have to lay back and submerge half my head in the water. And if I did that, my hearing would be muffled and my hair would move with the water, seemingly floating around my head like Medusa’s snake strands. My hair scared me when it did that because it reminded me of an octopus. A dark, creeping, sinister octopus slowly moving its tentacles closer and closer to my face.

I don't take baths very often anymore.

I was afraid of the water. Inside a bath tub.

But it’s not just that. I’m also afraid of fish and the dark. So, as you can imagine, my fear of water, which happens to combine my other two fears, only adds to this phobia. But can you blame me? Obviously, as the water gets deeper, it gets darker and you never know what lays on the bottom. We've all seen the terrifying pictures of the deformed creatures that live in the sea with their sharp teeth and large, dark eyes.

I still swam in pools and lakes, though. So maybe my fear isn’t extreme enough to classify as a phobia; however, I still get anxious no matter where I’m swimming. If I can’t see the bottom, I am terrified. I fear there are fish in pools (even when I know there are not). I'm terrified that there are fish deep in the lake that will bite me (even when they never have). I don’t live by an ocean so I don’t need to worry much about sea creatures (although I’ll still Google them, fostering my fear).

Even if I can’t classify my fear as a phobia, it doesn’t make it irrational. More instinctual, really. I can imagine that the earliest humans were also afraid of water. Minus seeing it as a source of food, a person can only go so far into the ocean before being swept away, left at the mercy of the deep, relentless sea and all its monsters.

It’s also harder to move, hear and see in water. You can’t run, your hearing is muted, and your sight is blurred. Your touch is dulled (unless you come across something sharp or slimy) and your sense of taste is worthless. How can you defend yourself without your senses? Oh, and good luck trying to smell underwater. That’s called drowning.

Learning the name of my fear of water is not a life-changing event. But it sounds much more impressive than saying, “I’m afraid of the water in my bathtub.”