Year: 2013

I have a trauma that I've been unable to escape for twenty-three years of my life, and I still can't watch the movie where it originated: the 1988 remake of The Blob.

I was three years old, and at the time the only TV we had was in the living room, so if my parents wanted to watch a movie they would kick me off of cartoons and watch whatever they wanted, barring the consequences. One of our local channels would run a movie every Friday night, and one night they were showing The Blob.

Now, I was into creepy stuff back then. My dad was a fanatic for old sci-fi movies, so I had already seen stuff like Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers and IT! The Terror From Beyond Space. I foolishly thought that if I could handle those movies, I could handle this one, so I snuggled up next to my dad in his armchair, prepared to be entertained.

And then along comes Paul (I think that was his name…not going to look it up for fear of coming across pictures) getting melted into a screaming, thrashing gooey mess, and my childlike innocence is forever marred. I don't think I've experienced real terror from watching a movie before or since. I had nightmares for FIVE YEARS afterward. Five years. And I still can't watch that stupid movie without reverting back to my three year-old self; I tried when I was fourteen, thinking that I could probably handle it now, since I loved movies like An American Werewolf in London and John Carpenter's The Thing. I WAS WRONG. The whole time I was waiting for that scene to come on, my heart was racing and a rising sense of panic was growing in my chest. And when it finally reared its gruesome head, I ran crying from the room, covering my ears so I wouldn't be able to hear it, while everyone else in the room laughed at how goofy and schlocky it was.

So, now I'm forever afraid of a relatively silly gorefest from the '80s with moderately good special effects and somewhat goofy acting. Thanks, Dad.

Hello there, Kindertrauma!

My name is Piotr and I've written to you once before, asking for help with naming a trauma. This time, I'd like to make a traumafession regarding certain Polish movie that was a huge trauma for me… and, from what I've heard, quite a lot of people of my generation.

The movie is 1983's "Akademia Pana Kleksa" ("Mr Inkblot's Academy"). It's a movie (based on a book) about a magician named Pan Kleks (Mr. Inkblot) and his magical academy for boys. It's a very good movie and a source of very fond memories for Poles who were kids in the 1980s. Aside from certain section, that is… A section about wolves.

See, part of the story is a flashback taking place in a fairy tale kingdom. The flashback concerns a young prince who, foolishly, shoots a wolf when travelling through a forest. The wolf in question turns out to have been a king of all the wolves… and his death causes a bloody retribution: an invasion of wolves, who overrun the kingdom, siege the capital and, eventually, kill the young prince's whole family.

Sounds ghastly? I'd say yes, even to our adult minds. Then imagine, if you will, what it was like for children. Who were actually *shown* the whole story on the screen. Just imagine scenes with legions of wolf-headed troops walking with torches, howling, their eyes flashing… with a hard-rock soundtrack booming from the speakers. This stuff was horror-movie level of scary… Believe me, a lot of people of my generation name this sections of "Academy" as the scariest thing of their childhood.

I've done some searching and I found the particular scene posted on Youtube. See for yourself:

A curious fact: the song that plays in the background was composed for this movie by TSA, an important Polish hard rock band.

Well, here's a traumafession for you!

Cheers,

Piotr W.

So, Kindertrauma, we meet again. I get a feeling that I'll be submitting to your site quite a bit. Sure, there might have been little one time episodes like crying at Twister and Dante's Peak, scurrying back to bed like a bat out of Hell after witnessing a guy's back split open… But there's no scene in any movie that has affected me more than this. It is the scene that I blame for my emetophobia (fear of vomiting). Yeah, I'm talking about Mouse Hunt.

Let's describe the scene as quickly as possible. I don't want to ruin my dinner.That scene where the mayor accidentally eats a cockroach, finds out about it, vomits it up, and dies? UGH. I'm shuddering just typing this. That scene, that DAMN SCENE. Oh, how it scarred me for life! Ever since seeing that scene, just thinking about someone throwing up gives me so many unwanted conflicting feelings. It makes me feel like throwing up, but the idea of throwing up absolutely terrifies me. Someone throws up in the room? I have to leave as quickly as possible. I can't leave? I retreat to the farthest corner of the room and attempt to cover both my mouth and ears at the same time. Afterwards, I will not be satisfied until I've almost given myself prune fingers from washing my hands. I am also extremely paranoid about any sickness of this type. If I know that a person has been sick or has been in a house with sickness going around, I will avoid them like the plague until I am certain the coast is clear. It may sound awful, but I just can't help it. The idea of vomiting just affects me that much.

And you know why? It's because of Mouse Hunt. Thank you, Mouse Hunt! You scarred me for life, and I owe it completely to you!