I greatly dislike feeling claustrophobic.
I've discovered it's the basis of many of my pet peeves.
Here I have doodled my frustrations in a slightly sloppy manner to illustrate my feelings.
My older siblings used to play a game with us, deftly named Hot Dog, in which they would roll us up in a blanket. It was good fun...for 0.25 seconds. And then I'd panic and kind of scream and insist they unroll me.
This Hot Dog feeling happens in sleeping bags, too.
And if I ever had to have a CAT scan, you can bet they'd have to knock me out to get me in there.
If anything is pulling my hair down on my head, I don't like it. I don't even let my pillow do that; I have to fluff my hair over the pillow so that it's not even touching me (and nothing is touching it).
Ew. Not kidding. This applies to scrambled bed sheets, too. Hey, twisted socks/nylons fits in there, too.
See how I have a big "X" on my face? When my nose is stuffed, it's as disconcerting as if I had no nose. I really, really hate it. And I feel trapped, suffocated.
Extremely dry hands and feet also give me the sensation of being trapped. It's like my feet or hands can't breathe through my skin, and I truly suffer for it. Good lotions are as necessary to have around as bandaids (even more so).
Do I need to explain this one?
Really, anything. I do not like having my face crowded. NO. Like staticy hair. Or a ski mask. Or a scarf that's pulled over my mouth and nose. Gah!!!!
Well who DOES like muffin top?
I have witnesses: I will pull over to get out of my coat if I have to.