I am afraid of the dark. There I've said it, out loud, for all the world (or all ten regular readers) to see (since you can't hear me at the moment). I don't know why I'm afraid of the dark, it's just one of those irrational fears. Sure some bad things have happened to me in the dark, but some pretty bad things have happened to me in broad daylight too and I'm not afraid of the light. The problem may be that I have an unusually overactive imagination, but still why would I think aliens, or lunatics, or bogeymen or ax murderers would only strike in the dark? I guess if I could rationalize it, it wouldn't be an irrational fear, now would it?
My brain could give Stephen King a good run for his money. I can't read his books because many of them don't seem like fiction to me (I do have a little trouble believing in a possessed automobile though I've had a few that might have qualified). I believe there are other lifeforms in the universe and I see no reason why they wouldn't come calling. I'm not one of those who think I have seen space ships or flying saucers or been abducted. I am just willing to admit the probability that with space being as huge as it is (Douglas Adams said in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, "Space is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly hugely mindboggingly big it is. I mean you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist, but that's just peanuts to space.") there has to be something more than just us. None of these beliefs interferes in the least with my belief in God. He created us; He could have created many others as well. Unfortunately, believing that God will protect me does not make my phobia any less terrifying.
I spent a lot of years, too many years, trying to force myself to get over the fear. When I lived alone, I would turn out all the lights at night when I went to bed, then I would lie there in the dark with my eyes squeezed shut, my heart rate rapidly rising, my breathing bordering on hyperventilation, and panic consuming every niche of my consciousness. Any noise, even just nighttime settling of an old house, would cause everything to accelerate. I would remain in this state for hours, until eventually exhaustion would win out and I would slip into a troubled and restless stupor. Then, I would do it all over again the next night. I really thought I would eventually "cure" myself of this foolish dread. By the weekends, my nerves were frayed, I had bags under my eyes, and my brain was barely hitting on one cylinder. But, I could, most of the time, catch a long nap on Saturday and Sunday during the day, when it was okay to sleep because it wasn't dark.
There's not too much else that causes me to be afraid. I'm not afraid to die. I'm not ready to go yet, but if it's my time, then okay. I have those thoughts of disaster when I hear a siren and Bud isn't home yet. But that's really not irrational unless you allow it to consume you. I take the precaution of paying attention to my surroundings when I am out at stores or malls, but that isn't irrational, that's good sense. I lock my doors at night and lock my cars when I'm not in them, but I just don't see any reason to tempt fate. That's not fear, it's preventative caution. I worry some about rabid animals, especially since we live out in the country, but I'm not afraid, I just carry a big stick. I'm not afraid of bugs or spiders or snakes. I don't like them, but since Bud is allergic to insect stings, I'm usually the one who has to deal with most of the creepy crawlies.
It never occurred to me to do anything other than attempt to conquer my demons. Then one day I was having a conversation with a friend. This friend had a great deal of experience with hallucinogenic drugs. My friend told me about an experience with a girl who was tripping. She started to freak because the front door was open and she saw a herd of horses about to stampede through the opening. She was very, very upset and getting more frantic with each breath. My friend very calmly walked over and closed the door. It eliminated the problem and the girl was fine throughout the rest of her chemically induced frolic. So what does this have to do with me, you ask? No, I was not the girl who was tripping. But, it showed me how easy it is to solve this type of problem. Eliminate the stimulus.
After that conversation with my friend, I have never been in complete darkness in my home again. I have nightlights in the bathroom. I leave a fluorescent light on in our kitchen. I have flashlights all over the place. I no longer see any need to torture myself into attempting to vanquish my fear. It isn't going away, so I just avoid situations in which it might present itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment