🫣 Asten Does Nostalgia: Childhood Fears Edition

“Why Was I Scared of That?” – A Deep Dive into My Tiny Anxious Brain

Every kid is scared of something growing up — whether it’s monsters under the bed, being left behind at Tesco, or accidentally turning evil like that one Goosebumps episode. But some of my childhood fears were… less universal. More “very specific to anxious, autistic little me.”

Let’s unpack some of the weird, wild, and genuinely terrifying things that had me stressed out before I even hit double digits. Spoiler: they still haunt me a bit. Also featuring commentary from my chaos muse, Daisy Carter, because of course she has thoughts.

😨 Saying My Own Name

I don’t think I’ve ever met another person who feared saying their own name out loud, but here we are. It wasn’t just shyness — it was like I couldn’t bear the spotlight of existing so… publicly. “Hi, I’m Asten” felt like the verbal equivalent of walking into a room naked. Instant vulnerability. Immediate panic.

There was this horrible pressure when I knew I’d have to introduce myself — at school, youth clubs, drama group intros (the worst). My brain would rehearse it over and over in advance, and yet the moment came… and I’d either mumble it, say it too loud, or completely blank. It felt like my identity was too big to say out loud. Like my name was this clunky, awkward thing that didn’t fit in my mouth.

Honestly, looking back, this one screams neurodivergence. But at the time, I thought I was just weird. Spoiler: I was weird and neurodivergent. Double whammy.

Daisy says:
“Imagine being so mysterious even YOU didn’t want to say your name. If I were you I’d walk into every room like a pop star at the VMAs and shout ‘I’M ASTEN’ with a mic drop.”

🎈 Balloons

Balloons were the enemy. Not in a “I don’t like clowns” kind of way, but in a “these unpredictable spheres of doom might explode at any moment and I’ll die from fright” kind of way.

It was the not knowing that got me. Was that one going to pop? Would someone deliberately squash it for fun? What if it brushed against something sharp and suddenly BANG — instant sensory overload, heart in throat, day ruined. Kids thought it was hilarious to sneak up behind people and pop them. Absolute agents of chaos. My stress response said: flee the scene.

Birthday parties were a minefield. Especially when a balloon animal got handed to me and I had to pretend I wasn’t actively preparing for detonation. The worst were helium balloons — floating above you like silent threats, just waiting to drop and strike from above. Suspicious behaviour, frankly.

Daisy says:
“Asten vs Balloons: the most one-sided war since Tom vs Jerry. Personally, I think balloons are just drama queens. Loud, attention-seeking, and full of air. Hmm. Actually… relatable.”

🧸 The Muppets Short on the End of Disney VHS Tapes

Okay, this one is burned into my brain and not in a cute, fuzzy way. At the end of some Disney VHS tapes — just when you think the film’s done and you can relax — BAM. Out of nowhere: a Muppets short. You know the ones. A little bit too loud. A little too close-up. Puppets that moved in jerky, chaotic ways. It was pure nightmare fuel.

There was something deeply unsettling about the transition from Disney’s warm fuzzy fade-out to this sudden burst of felt and eyeballs. I never saw it coming. No warning. No theme tune. Just boof — Kermit in your face like a jumpscare. Sometimes it wasn’t even a full sketch — just a promo or clip, but that was somehow worse. Like being ambushed by a puppet you didn’t invite to your house.

The worst part? I couldn’t fast-forward fast enough. The remote was never nearby. I’d be frozen on the carpet, half-hiding behind a cushion, heart racing, willing it to end before Gonzo did something cursed.

It’s not that I hate the Muppets now. I respect their legacy. I just don’t trust them. That’s different.

Daisy says:
“Yeah nah. The Muppets are unhinged. If I wanted to be screamed at by something fuzzy with googly eyes, I’d go to Build-A-Bear on a Saturday.”

🕷️ The Intro to Spider (The Cartoon)

For anyone who doesn’t remember it, Spider was this early 2000s British cartoon about a little boy and his pet spider. Sounds innocent enough, right? Wrong. That intro sequence was pure atmospheric dread in under 30 seconds. It had no right being that spooky.

The animation was scratchy. The colours were muted. And the music? That twangy, offbeat violin with that weird “doo-dee-doo” bit — it unsettled me in a way I couldn’t explain at the time. It had the same energy as a horror movie opening, but with a cartoon spider crawling up the wall instead of a ghost in the mirror. Why did the boy look like he hadn’t slept in a week? Why did the spider have no mouth but vibes?

The show itself was fine — sometimes even sweet — but that intro planted an instant seed of anxiety. I’d fumble for the remote the second the music started, or bolt out of the room shouting “TELL ME WHEN IT’S OVER!” like I was about to be possessed.

Honestly, there’s something deeply British about making a children’s show that’s both charming and emotionally distressing. And I don’t care how nice the spider was. I still don’t trust anything with that many legs.

Daisy says:
“Okay but WHY did this look like it was animated by someone processing a divorce? That spider’s energy was ‘I live in your cupboard and eat your dreams.’ No thank you.”

🏆 Honourable Mentions:

The THX logo sound: Why did it feel like the living room was going to explode?
Fire alarms: Immediate chaos. No notes.
The Mr Blobby theme tune: Unsettling. Untrustworthy. Possibly cursed.
Quicksand: Why did TV make us think this was a real threat???
Accidentally calling 999: And going to jail forever. Obviously.

Daisy’s Corner:
“This post was a ride. Honestly, baby Asten had the fear radar of a chihuahua in a thunderstorm — and I say that with love. If you weren’t at least mildly scared of something ridiculous as a kid, were you even alive in the 90s?”