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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