What makes something scary? And why do we all find different things scary? I’d be fascinated to know what exactly is going on in a little mind when it decides that something is worth being scared of, instead of just brushing it off.

I make loud noises around EC from time to time, accidentally dropping the washing machine lid or a toilet seat, and she’s always startled but otherwise takes it in stride. She took international airplane trips without breaking a sweat. But last week, after I strapped her carseat onto the grocery cart and pushed her across the parking lot, we encountered the scariest thing in the world, so far:

The Air Door.

Yes, I had to look up what this thing is called. You know when you walk through the automatic sliding doors of a grocery store, warehouse, or something like that, there is a fan mounted above the door that blows down on you? It keeps the air conditioning in and bugs out while the physical doors are open. It also shakes the covering of any unsuspecting carseat that happens to walk through it. And that, my friends, is some scary business.

It only took her a moment to burst out screaming. I stood inside with her, trying to console her while leaving her in the carseat, but she cried uncontrollably, in a world-is-ending wail that pierced all ears walking by. Before long I took her out of the carseat and held her, and then she slowly calmed down. Her little sniffles persisted for the hour or so I was in the store, and I carried her in my arms at least three-quarters of that time. (One-armed grocery shopping: achievement unlocked.) I put her back in the carseat, she fell asleep, exhausted from the fear, and slept until a careless checker woke her up while I paid. And then…the moment we all feared…we left the store. Through the Air Door.

In the bright sunlight outside, I couldn’t just stand and hold her for as long as I had inside the store. So I got her calm enough, put her into the car, and off we went. In the five minute drive home, her PTSD kicked in and she relived every harrowing detail of the experience.

We haven’t been through the Air Door since; in fact, not even gone in the car anywhere since. But I do put her into the carseat and take walks in the stroller regularly. And she is skittish in the carseat now. Our housing complex has speed bumps all over (and terrible sidewalks) so the stroller goes up and down as I go over them. The first day we walked after the Air Door, she freaked out at the feeling of the speed bump. Though she doesn’t do that anymore, she still has this I’m-going-to-cry-if-you-push-me-too-far look whenever she’s in the stroller. She doesn’t fall asleep like she used to.

I can only guess at what she found so scary about the Air Door. But it was such a strong association that it has left lasting effects. If I could predict ahead of time what she would find scary, I could avoid or ameliorate; but I can’t. And I’m kind of dreading the next time I have to take her to the store with me. Because then She Will Have To Face Her Greatest Fear.