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Halloween every day

November 1, 2010

You know what job I would be really good at? Horror movie writer. Now, I haven’t seen a horror movie since “The Ring,” back in 2002, so I would have a little catching up to do, but boy… do I have the mind for it.

I realized this a few nights ago, when I was home alone.  I went into the kitchen to get some ice cream, and as I’m serving myself, I realize I’m standing at a rather weird angle, kind of sideways, preventing myself from keeping my back to the outside door.  And I think to myself, “This is ridiculous.”  But do I change my position? Hell no!  I do check outside, though, just to see if someone’s standing there in the light, waiting for me to notice them.  When I come back into the bedroom (yeah, I eat my ice cream in bed), I toss my usual glance behind the door to make sure there’s no one hiding there.  And when I approach the bed, I hop into in, just in case someone’s about to reach out from underneath to grab my feet.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that I think about, imagine, and sometimes as good as see horror images ALL THE TIME.  I’m going to the car to pick up my wife from the train station at night? My entire body covers in chills and my adrenaline kicks in as I approach the car… not only is it right next to the tool shed (yes, the very one I was organizing earlier today but which now harbors vicious ghosts intending to attack me), but also I am required to step VERY quickly into the car so as to avoid the person under my car ready to slash my ankles, I of course must look in the back seat to ensure that no one’s back there ready to surprise attack me, AND once the car is going, I need to check all the mirrors to ensure zombies aren’t trying to rush my car.

As I write all this, it seems kind of exhausting, but it’s really just a part of my everyday existence.  All of this, of course, only applies (irrational rules… surely part of whatever grips my fragile mind) when I’m by myself and when it’s dark.   If Kelsey is with me or it’s light outside, I’ll barge into the shed, stand next to any bed or car, and not think twice about any outside lurkers.

By the way, I do understand the rational side of all of this.  There is no proof that ghosts exist; who even knows that my house is a house they could approach and attack; not to mention who would be holding a grudge against me from their grave?   But that never seems to help me in the moment.  There could be ghosts, or folks with mental illness roaming the woods and stumbling upon my abode, or crazy smart people who have picked me as the perfect murder because there are no locks on my doors and no one would hear me scream in this underground house.

My wife says I need to face these fears in order to make them go away.  And every now and then I do experience moments of bravery, or find that I’m not as worried about something that has plagued me in the past.  Yet I’ve lived with this horror imagination for so many years now that it really is hard for me to imagine not feeling the way I do by myself in the dark.  Perhaps one day I’ll get there, though.  That would be nice.

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One comment

  1. I am so with you on this… I’ve been thinking about how I worry about the same ridiculous things every day, totally disregarding the fact that they never come to pass! It’s totally like Halloween every day.



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