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Are You Afraid of the Dark? Because I Certainly Am.

November 17, 2010

Ms. Hyde at A Bitch Called Mom wrote a post the other day about how she loves being scared.  That is so insane to me.  I think that’s because I don’t have levels of scared.  I have two settings:  not-scared-at-all and rabbit-heartbeat-piss-my-pants-scared.  I like being startled…the one instant of panic is well worth the hilarity you get from realizing how stupid you were for freaking out.  But when that panic gets drawn out over time and turned into fear, count me the F out.  My stepmom used to spend an entire night watching scary movies and then make my sister and I go into the kitchen with her to go get a glass of water.  As if an eight-year-old and a ten-year-old are going to protect her from Freddy Krueger.

The thing is, we were kinda po’ so we had a pretty small shotgun apartment and one tv.  Are shotgun apartments as common in other cities as they are in St. Louis?  If not, they’re laid out like this:

Not a lot of room to get away

Because of the aforementioned state of po’ness, we didn’t have a couch big enough to accommodate both my parents and us kiddos when we came to stay on the weekends.  So we rolled the tv cart into the bedroom and we all laid together on the bed to watch movies.  Which means that scary movies were forced on my poor young terrified soul by the people I loved and trusted the most.  Bullshit idea of family time, right?  I couldn’t go in the kitchen because there’d be a 200lb spider waiting in the shadows.  If I sat by myself in the living room I could still hear the ominous suspenseful tones that inevitably lead to hacking and screaming and splattering.  Plus I was by myself, a sitting duck just waiting to be viciously murdered while my family sat, oblivious, in the next room.

Although that same family that I “loved and trusted the most” were not above exploiting my fears for their entertainment.  I’d go down to the basement with a basket of laundry and all of a sudden the lights would flip off and I’d hear the door slam.  I knew that if I didn’t get up the stairs fast enough it meant I’d be sliced and diced into a million pieces by a serial killer that was magically able to sneak into the basement in the .5 seconds it took me to bolt up the stairs and scream for my dad to unlock the door before I had a fear induced heart attack.  He was too busy laughing his ass off with my stepmom, sister, and brother.

This was me (only picture a dark basement instead of a bright car and a psychopath instead of a…gazelle?  What the shit is that?)

Freaking the fuck out

This was my family (only picture real people and not a cartoon with HA HA written where ears should be (way to come through for me, Google Images))

Cracking the fuck up

I couldn’t go to sleep at night because I knew that there were snakes under my bed and if I let my arm hang off the edge they’d use it as a bridge to slither up all over my body.  They didn’t bit me or strangle me, I would simply die from being covered in snakes.  To this day I have an insane irrational fear of snakes, to the point where a picture of a snake gives me chills.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been the biggest pussy in the world and lived in a house with old rattly windows.  Talk about stress.  A meth head being chased by a rabid dog is calmer than 9-year-old me on a windy night.  Forget that I lived on the second floor of a house in a safe neighborhood on a well-lit busy street.  I was certain that rattling=murderer.  I’d wake my sister up and make her come sleep in bed with me.  Which is cute when you’re little.  It becomes a bit more outlandish at, say, 16.

Then there was the time a few years ago when I found the first two seasons of “Lisa William’s Life Among the Dead” on Lifetime On Demand (don’t judge me).

This bitch talks to ghosts. FOR REAL YOU GUYS!

Although I no longer believe that there’s a 200lb spider hiding in my kitchen I still 1000% believe in ghosts.  And I believe that some people have the ability to communicate with them.  I’ve never had any crazy supernatural experiences, so I don’t know why I’m so downright positive that this is possible.  I just am.  And watching Lisa Williams get all psychic medium and clairvoyant up on these people just reinforced it.  I’ve pulled some youtube videos of her here, here, and here.  I don’t know if these are good representations or not…I just pulled a few out because I know people are lazy and like links.

So anyway, I stay up until 2am watching this chickadee talk to ghosts.  Mostly she does readings, but every now and again she goes to different sites and investigates ghostly activity.  There are a few freaky clips, but it really isn’t a scary show.

Until I turn the tv off and try to go to bed.  Then I start imagining a ghostly shadow hovering in the dining room area of my apartment.  I start getting all clammy and the thought of going to my bedroom at the back of the apartment makes my stomach tie itself up with my intestines in a corporeal expression of dread.  So I think “Ok, I’ll just keep the lights dim and watch a cheesy light-hearted movie and fall asleep on the couch, no big deal I’m 24 years old I’m fine.”  So I turn on Happy Feet.  Yeah fucking right.  The second I closed my eyes I could feel the horrible man ghost hovering right over my face just waiting for me to relax my  awareness enough so he can choke me to death.  Then I started sweating like a whore on dollar day and praying to every dead relative I have to please please please protect me from this supernatural bad guy.

Do you know how hard it is to fall asleep when you think you’re going to be attacked the second you close your eyes?  It’s impossible.  Which is why I spent the entire night tossing and turning and sweating and generally freaking the fuck out on the couch.  I thought that when my roommate woke up for work I’d be fine…but the panic still hit every single time I closed my eyes.  I called in sick to work at the restaurant and didn’t fall asleep until 11:00 in the morning.

Talk about an exaggerated sense of fear.  Who else over the age of 10 gets scared like that??

2 Comments leave one →
  1. November 29, 2010 9:30 pm

    I can’t even watch Ghost Whisperer. I can barely even handle the commercials for Ghost Whisperer. Actually, I’m scared right now after reading this post, thinking of you being scared. It’s kind of ridiculous.


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