Report by Amanda Williamson

People can be frightened of the funniest things- from the creepy to the comic. But for those who are victims of a phobia, it is anything but a joke. 
Now help is at hand

It’s a phenomenon which strips away the veneer of adult rationality and strikes to the core of our neurotic psyches.

It’s why grown men can be reduced to quaking wrecks at the thought of stepping on a plane, or why women can knock down doors in their retreat from a eight- legged creature thousands of times smaller then them.

All of us know fear- it is an instinctive reaction to something which  exposes us to danger and it is a vital part of our defence mechanism. If, however, we are unable to control that fear, and it becomes an irrational response which triggers other powerful emotions, then it is a phobia.

Mine is snakes. The sight or even thought of the satanic creatures is like having an injection of white heat cursing through me veins. I feel panicky, sweaty, short of breath.

On one occasion in the tropical house at Chester Zoo somebody opening a lemonade bottle behind me had me leaping out of my skin, and the last time I attempted to confront my fear in front of a 12- foot python called Lucy, the thing came at me hissing and arching its back while I rooted to the spot in blind terror.

Psychoanalyst Michael Whitenburgh has been treating phobias for 15 years. He says that 80% of the population admit to having a phobia, of which the majority by far are women, and suggests that the rest probably have one but are suppressing it.

There are essentially two types of phobia- adult phobias which crop up in adulthood, of which flying is the most common, and those which are deeply rooted in childhood experiences.

Because we tend to bury these deep in our subconscious they are the hardest to unearth, and therefore the hardest to treat.

After years of research into different treatments, including those he has developed himself, Michael Whitenburgh now reckons he has found the perfect formula, so that he has just set up what he says is the first programme, based at his Stress Clinic, Liverpool, guaranteed to treat phobias.

“I’ve treated thousands over the years and I have never had a failure. Some of them may take longer then others- most I can cure in one session- but it works every time”.
During his treatment, Mr Whitenburgh uses relaxation techniques which encourage the patient to re- live the first time they experienced the phobia and asks them to describe the emotion that accompanies their confrontation with the thing which triggers the phobia.

“When we have got to the point where the patient is actually re- living and feeling the experience, then I can encourage the intellect to deal with it in a logical way. The adult mind can always tackle a phobia”.

Phobias are split into three different categories: simple phobias like those of animals; social phobias like fear of crowds or open spaces, and agitated phobias which are fears of inanimate objects.

The most common in adults is fear of flying; although fear of public transport in general figures prominently in the adult Top 10 phobias.

In a survey of 500 people, one in 500 had a fear of travelling on trains, one in 120 of busses, and half said they would refuse to go through the Channel Tunnel.

The most unusual case Mr Whitenburgh has come across was a man with a fear of scrubbing brushes (he eventually took a job as road sweeper) and he is looking forward to dealing with the challenge of the Liverpool woman with a fear of bagpipes.

Mr Whitenburgh himself once had a fear of heights, based on a `horrific` childhood experience, but managed to treat it during the course of his own training, which he readily  admits he still hasn’t completed.

“Every case is difference, because it is a completely individual reaction to a certain thing. Patients are constantly teaching me new things about phobias. It is an ongoing education”.

I was warned before my session started that snake phobia was `quite heavy` in terms of psycho-analytical interpretation.

After an initial relaxation- a strange sort of suspension between the reality of the outside tangible  world and the murky, dusty corners of your own mind- I found myself re- living the first time I had become aware of my snake phobia.

It was during a trip to Chester Zoo as a child.

I found myself once again in the tropical house, staring with a mixture of horror and fascination at the huge jaws of a snake as it tried to swallow a whole rabbit.

The next minute, the glass cage which had protected me from the reptile was gone and the snake was coming towards me, jaws open wide. I saw the snake swallow my hand.

Then, I was transported to my old classroom. I was aware of feeling that children were laughing at me. A kaleidoscope of fleeting images from what were at the time hugely traumatic experiences flashed through my mind, too quickly for me to hold onto and describe.

Eventually, cajoled firmly by Mr Whitenburgh, I was able to summon up the courage to shout at the children and the snake to go away, and immediately the images dissolved.

When I came back to the present I felt like I had put my emotions through a liquidiser.

It was explained to me that the snake had become a symbol of my childhood insecurity, because by being frightened of it, I had become vulnerable, the same feeling I remembered from the classroom.

I understood the connection, but am still not sure I could happily wrap a python around my torso, although Me Whitenburgh did stress that I needed more sessions before my phobia was completely under control.

For patients, the phobia treatment costs £65 upon completion, whether it takes one session or a dozen.