Nervous Nelly

I am the victim of an over-active imagination.

I’ve touched on this topic before when I talked about how I worry about things that might happen.  But it goes a little deeper than that…..

I really believe in the boogy man.

I am convinced that, every night, when I walk past the top of the stairs in the dark on my way back from the bathroom, something is going to grab my ankle.

When I watched “The Sixth Sense,” I wouldn’t even go to the bathroom in the middle of the night unless I woke Matt up and made him go with me.  Really.

I am a very light sleeper, and I think it’s all for self-preservation.  If one of my children gets out of bed, I hear them.  Now, I could lie and say this is because of my deep-rooted concern for their well-being, but the truth is, is scares the living, mortal crap out of me to wake up in the middle of the night with a kid standing there beside the bed.  I’m sorry, but kids, in the right (or wrong) context, are very creepy.

I am afraid of the dark, the woods, and especially the woods in the dark.  Allow me to expand on this one:

I love to hike.  There is a state park five miles from my home with some absolutely beautiful hiking trails.  There is a dirt road right across from my house that is a lovely little walk.  However, I hardly ever walk any of them because I’m too afraid.  I will walk with someone, but no one can ever go.  I don’t know what I think will happen, and, furthermore, I don’t know what real protection another person offers me, but if just one person will go with me I am fine.  (I’m just telling you how it is–I can’t explain it.)  And in the dark? Forget it.  I can freak myself out just imagining walking alone through the dark woods.    (My husband and I had this conversation once, and he asked me that if there was a bag with a million dollars in it at the bottom of the hill (in the woods) behind our house, would I go get it in the middle of the night.  He still doesn’t believe me when I tell him the answer is absolutely no.)  My son will go with me for walks in the woods sometimes, but my mind still considers him a child, even though he is almost as big as me, and from my point of view he is not protection so much as bait.

I also don’t trust people.

I’m sure this one stems from the fact that I watch too much television (although from what I see lately, the only person I should be afraid of is my husband.)  But I’ve always felt this way.  I hate those box vans that were big in the seventies and eighties–you know, the ones guys used to pimp out with beds and velvet curtains and paint bright blue or red or something?  I call them rape vans.  I wouldn’t park beside one of those vans even if the alternative was parking in the next state.

Here’s an amusing story: When I was in college, we used to have to take tests for some subjects late in the evening.  I had a chemistry test one night, and I was staying outside of town, which meant I had to drive in and find a place to park.  I always parked in a parking building at the bottom of the hill and then walked up to the campus.  Night fell while I was taking the test, and I had to walk back to my car in total darkness.  Is there anything any creepier than a parking garage after dark?  Anyway, I was walking as fast as I could.  To say I was nervous is an understatement.  I was as wound up as a law student at a frat party without any condoms.  Then I noticed the unthinkable.

I was being followed.

It was subtle at first–something maybe you thought was only your over-active imagination.  Then after pausing and surreptitiously glancing around, you realize your worst fears are confirmed.

I hurried my step and went towards my car.  I could see it just ahead.  This was the point in the movies when my pursuer would strike.  I made it to my driver’s side door.  Instead of reaching for the door handle, I put my hand in my bag and grabbed my mace.  After I doused the creep, I had a small baseball bat under my front seat that I could find a good use for.  I took a deep breath, turned….

…..and watched as the guy got into the car beside me and pulled out.

Yeah.

I wonder if that guy knows how close he came to an ass-whoopin’ that night?  All because he parked his car next to a neurotic.  And here I thought rape vans were dangerous.

So anyway, there you go.  I just thought I’d share a little craziness on this beautiful, snowy day.  Take care of yourself, thanks for reading…

….and make sure to leave your nightlight on.


 

 

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14 thoughts on “Nervous Nelly

  1. OMG. I totally get this. I can’t tell you how often I have gone to bed early even though I wasn’t tired, but I had to go because my husband went and I did not want to have to turn the lights off by myself and leap from the bedroom door to our bed… you get the picture 🙂

  2. I have a Nervous Nelly and a ‘fraidy cat. And yet, for some unknown reason, I insist of reading horror, watching horror, and just being a general horror story fanatic. No wonder I’m so nervous and scared all the time.

    Anyway, I could definitely relate to this. And The Sixth Sense totally freaked me out, too. That little girl reaching out and grabbing the little boy’s ankle? Umm…yeah, that’s some scary crap.

    • I won’t comment on this, since I read every word that Stephen King writes–you know, the master of horror.

      As far as horror movies, slasher films aren’t scary to me. It’s movies like The Sixth Sense that get me. I don’t know why.

  3. After watching Nightmare on Elm Street, I refused to get out of bed for my nighttime pee. And I always had to pee at least once at night! I was convinced that Freddy was going to reach out and drag me into the hellish abyss under my bed.

    Thanks a LOT for reminding me of that. 😉

  4. I also get more freaked out watching movies that deal with the supernatural than horror films. I think a lot of this has to do with a mixture of slightly disturbing religious undertones in my home while growing up, in addition to watching demon possession and alien movies during my formative years, particularly between the ages of 9 and 12. To this day I have virtual panic attacks (I’m exaggerating) when I’m alone in the dark and allow my mind to wander.

  5. I totally understand some of the paranoia. I used to love watching shows like “Forensic Files” and Criminal Minds (it was one of my favorite tv dramas). But once I moved out on my own and am now living alone, forget it. I got tired of thinking that every time the motion light came on outside it was somebody casing the place to find the perfect spot to break-in and then rape or murder me. No longer watching the shows helped….but it’s always still there in the back of my mind. Also – I have nightlights all over my house! 🙂

  6. I don’t get freaked out a lot, mainy because every time I start, I force myself not to be. Some sort of “I will have control over the situation” thing. But Sixth Sense FREAKED ME OUT big time!!! My mom was staying over the night I went to go see it, and around 2am I went and got in bed with her because I was so scared. I was 24. True story.

    • I’m telling you, it’s a freaky movie. It’s too real or something, I don’t know. FWIW, my husband is very patient. We can watch a movie like that, and he’ll look over at me halfway through and say, “I’m going to the bathroom with you tonight, aren’t I?” I guess he has a philosophical acceptance of it.

  7. Hahahaha!! Now imagine you chose my husband to marry. The guy who stands on bathroom counters to jump out at me. Yes. Yes he does. And puts on scary masks. And walks REALCLOSEUPRIGHTBEHINDME as I climb the stairs so he can grab my foot and pull me backwards.

    I feel your pain sister. I’ll take that hike with you.

    • Luckily, my husband is not like your husband, because he would already be dead. Or, at the least, very badly beaten.

  8. That’s not craziness… I NEVER park next to those vans. Also, my husband has taken to watching “American Horror Story,” which he’s found to be the most effective way to not just get me out of the room, but actually out of the house! Better safe than sorry, even if it is in the hallway in the middle of the night! 🙂

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