Does anyone else get cinema anxiety? With the weekend upon us, the possibility of being asked if I want to go to the cinema looms large and already I can feel my nerves jangling. I have been honing my excuses ("My legs have fallen off" or "I'm protesting outside Strictly HQ demanding that John Sergeant go now") and practising swift exits. I have also been wondering what it is about the cinema that so unnerves me.

I wasn't fiddled with in the back row at any point and I've never been beaten up by bullies in a foyer while waiting to see Police Academy 4; so what explains my reluctance?

Well it's not the films, rubbish though the majority of them are. It's true that there's usually nothing I want to see. Even when there's a big blockbuster opening – Quantum of Solace, say – I convince myself that it won't be any good, or at least won't be surprising in any way. I was excited when Savage Grace came out and was eager to see it. But when it came down to booking tickets, I chickened out. Ditto Hellboy 2. A fan of Hellboy, which I saw subtitled in Mexico, I was keen to see the sequel sans titles, but again, its time on the big screen came and went while I faffed around. Now I wait for it on DVD.

Obviously another problem with the cinema is the other people. The ones who sit quietly are bad enough (after all, what might they be doing there in the dark?) but the ones who make a noise, either inhaling popcorn and/or pick'n'mix or, worse, chattering on their mobiles, drive me demented. I would have a word but like everyone else seething meekly in the dark, I'm worried I might get stabbed. Bleeding to death on cheap carpet while surrounded by a gaggle of concerned cinemagoers isn't on my "to do" list.
It could just be that I don't like leaving the house. Frankly, who does at this time of year? Going to the cinema involves going into the certainly cold and probably wet outdoors. It might involve public transport. With the public on. And you can't sit in the cinema in your pyjamas. Well, you can but you'd likely be sectioned.

Even when I'm at home, though, I look through my not-insubstantial collection of films (most still pristine in cellophane) and think: "Shall I watch The Savages now? After all, it has two of my favouritest actors of all ever in it – Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman – one of whom I have a massive crush on."

I rip off the cellophane, put it into the DVD player and then, suddenly, change my mind. This also recently happened with Juno and Cloverfield. I practically had to be held down to watch the Sex and the City movie and I wish I had put up more of a fight. The same situation also occurs when my beloved suggests we watch one of the umpteen movies available on Sky. The choice is terrifying and leaves me paralysed. I usually suggest we watch Miss Marple instead.

I think it might be a commitment thing. Films can just seem so long compared to TV shows, even when they're not. The Savages is 114-minutes long, which is shorter than a Midsomer Murders but somehow seems more of a obligation, despite undoubtedly being much better than John Nettles stepping over dead bodies in Somerset. Then again, I can watch a whole box set of Dexter on a Sunday afternoon, a swathe of Special Victims' Unit of an evening, half a season of Buffy into the wee small hours and be as happy as Larry.

Is it that, through watching so much TV, I have been conditioned to enjoy hour-long escapades? Or is that, even if you appreciate others, you have one media that you especially hold dear and mine, forever, will be television? Or am I just weird, entirely alone in suffering from cinema anxiety? Smart-arsed "You're just weird" answers will be met with sighs, not of anger, but of disappointment.