I am afraid of the dark.
I have always been afraid of the dark. When I was a little girl I had this huge lamp (I think my uncle sculpted it? I wonder what happened to that lamp.) in my room which I was always switching on, making sure the horrors in my wild imagination weren't coming to be. I'm not a terrible, horrific person and I don't do terrible, horrific things, so why I come up with such terrible, horrific things in my imagination I'm not sure. But I do. Creepy creepy. For instance, I used to think the shadows on my walls were strange creatures that of course were going to "get" me. What they were going to do once they "got" me I'm not sure. But I wasn't about to wait around and find out. Also, I grew up in an old farm house that was very creaky. That didn't help the problem any. And, to add to this, I had a window in my room which opened up onto the roof, which had a ladder at its side at all times (in case of a fire). Needless to say, I was always pretty worried about someone trying to come in through that window. It was locked. Always. And the curtain was drawn over it. Always. (Except on the rare occasion that I hoped my current crush would climb up the ladder and reenact some version of the ever-classic Romeo and Juliet balcony scene which I have seen more times than most, considering my mom taught ninth grade English for many moons and would watch every version of Romeo and Juliet each year to find all the scenes she wanted to show her classes.) Anyway, I think being afraid of the dark is just part of my nature. I've always been that way. And it's not just some childhood thing (like wetting the bed--gross, gross, gross) that goes away with adolescence. No, rest assured (since I don't), when all the lights are out and I need to be up and about, you can still find me walking around my own tiny apartment with a flashlight. Even on my trips to the bathroom (quite literally less than ten steps from the edge of my bed) I grab my trusty flashlight to get rid of that dark I hate so much. I don't know why, but I'm just always afraid some dangerous stranger is going to be lurking behind some door or behind a piece of furniture or inside a closet. Or behind a shower curtain. (Does anyone else have this fear of a stranger hiding behind an opaque shower curtain? I have made the habit of always checking behind them, but this got me in trouble once when I was visiting a friend's house and some soap or shampoo or something was sitting on top of the inside shower curtain. Whatever it was fell down and made a big noise as it happened. My friends, who were just waiting for me to use the restroom before we left to go somewhere, heard the whole thing. When I was done I had to come out and explain myself. Humiliating.) But the strangest thing about me (I think) isn't so much my fear of the dark, but my remedy for it. I constantly find myself making up some irrational fear, and then confronting it instantly (or making my loving husband go looking for it). If I'm so afraid that someone is in the closet, why am I going around swinging closet doors open to make sure nobody's in there? I mean, true, I really don't want someone sneaking up on me, but still. What am I going to do if I ever actually find what I went looking for? Sheesh. This being afraid of the dark stuff. You really can't win. Which is why I have a love-hate relationship with going in to check on my daugther. Of course I don't want to wake her up by turning on the light, but I also really hate walking into a dark room. Especially when my big, strong husband isn't home. But of course I want to know if she's finally fallen asleep or I worry if she's safe or something, so I go in and check on her. But usually I check behind the chair and under her crib and in the closet before I put her down to make sure there's nothing to be afraid of anyway. Then I just try not to be irrational. Ha. Yeah right.