Tuesday, March 26, 2013

How Achluophobia saved my life

I think it is way easier to say scared of the dark. I have been afraid of the dark for as long as I can remember. When I was 9, my parents went out and left me home alone. I turned on every light in the house and had the TV up as loud as it would go to fend of the evil spirits or whatever else was there that could attack me. Our neighbor Gene came over to check on me and I didn't even hear him banging on the door. He called my parents at the restaurant and told them they should come home.

You all know about my grandparent's basement. If I wasn't scared of the dark, I may have well gone and stayed in that room with the hat boxes and would clearly have been killed by the zombie body parts of husbands past.

What about the horror movie test, you know the one where you see how long you would survive in a horror flick? I would survive BECAUSE I AM SMART ENOUGH NOT TO GO INTO THE DARK HOUSE AFTER NOTICING THE LOCK WAS TAMPERED WITH. "Hello, hello, is anyone in here?" Not me.

How about the nights where I almost broke my leg, neck or other body part when I thought I heard something behind me in the kitchen and then moved at a pace known as breakneck to get up the stairs and into my room. Wait a minute, I just said I was smart enough not to...damnit. I clearly would have been horribly killed in a spook movie.

I certainly hope our hearts don't have a certain amount of beats in them before they stop. I seriously used a lot of beats up in my childhood running and hiding from things that didn't exist.

One thing I do find funny is my inner monologue as these events unfold. I am not going to be scared. Nothing is there. I just need to remain calm. I am going to die. Can't I run faster. God help me. Don't breathe heavy they will hear you. Don't move. Someone will come and find you soon.

I do however have a sobering part of this tale of fun...when I was in college there was a boyfriend I broke up with. He couldn't take no for an answer and one dark night he followed me to my apartment. I got that feeling I would always get when I was scared in the dark. So I ran, fast, toward my building. This time someone was there in the dark. I got in the building and up the stairs. As I put the key in my lock he was on me. I struggled to open the door but finally got it. My puppy ran out and he grabbed him. He turned around and hit me square. I remember what happened next although it was a seriously out of body experience. I experienced a rage I have only felt twice since. I picked myself up as he reached the stairs. I don't know what I said but he started to turn. In that moment I grabbed my dog and pushed the guy down the stairs. I grabbed my keys and left. I went to a friends house, vomited wildly once I settled down a bit and then we called the police. I moved the next day. I am certain that my fear of the dark saved my life. If I wouldn't have run when I did, I wouldn't have made it to the building, I maybe would have not made it out of the situation with only a blackened eye. I am grateful I am scared of the dark.

Only 3 people knew is story, now there are more. This blog is therapeutic. I have been carrying that around half my life.