I am a completely pathetic losery wuss.
To anyone who knows me remotely well, that does not come as a surprise.
I was always the cousin who refused to run into the dark room with the others and play “Bloody Mary” in the mirror.
I read the “Scary Stories to tell in the Dark” series when I was 8, and they provided the inspiration for countless nightmares. Especially that one about the spider who laid its eggs in the girl’s face and then they hatched and her face exploded in a spidery mess and *shuddershuddershuddergaggag*.
While most kids enjoy telling campire stories or sneaking scary movies that their parents wouldn’t let them watch, I hated it with a passion and spent most of the time with a blanket over my head.
A few years ago, I decided that it could be fun to watch “The Ring” with my parents. As a result, I was up until 6am the morning which found me waking my mom and with “Good God I didn’t sleep all night please tell me you have drugs in this house.”
*Disclaimer: Drugs are bad. You should not use them unless they were prescribed for you. Or unless you have been up all damn night afraid that a freaky chick is going to crawl out of the tv down the hall and come scare you to death. Which is perfectly reasonable. Bite Me.*
That was the last time I watched a “scary” movie. It’s just something that I have come to accept as one of my limitations. Everyone has their own pet peeves and phobias- scary movies is mine.
Um, and maybe the dark. I happen to be blessed with having experienced lucid dreaming/false awakening multiple times, where you believe that you are awake but can see really freaky crap until you actually deduce that you are dreaming and snap yourself the hell out of it. Because of this I like having a dim light near where I’m sleeping, as I find it happens less often if am able to completely see my surroundings upon awakening.
My craziness, let me share it with you.
(After my first visit to his house, I found that Army Boy had discretely placed a nightlight in the hall outside his room. Apparently having a girlfriend flip the hell out during the night is not appealing to him. Or he is just nice. One of the two.)
I’m not sure exactly where my aversion to “all things scary” originated from. Is it perhaps a result of having these dream experiences from a young age that I may not even remember?
Or is it that I have difficulty differentiating something that I may see on a tv/movie screen from reality? Is having the visual of something scary and not normal enough to convince my brain in some small way that said scary, not normal thing could perhaps exist?
Is it even that I may, just the slightest bit, believe that there may be things out there that cannot be explained by rational science? And that seeing these things depicted in some way appeals to that part of my brain and I’m unable to turn it off after the fact?
I have no idea. I just know what works for me and doesn’t work for me.
Such as going to see “Couples Retreat” (yeah, sorry, don’t judge me) yesterday and finding that ‘they’ tacked a preview for “Paranormal Activity” on to what was supposed to be a stupid brainless comedy.
*makes crazy eyes*
I’d read reviews that the movie was excellent, really well done and poo-your-pants scary. Absolutely perfect for people that enjoy such things. Attempting to be an open-minded, mature person in my late 20’s, I kept my eyes open for half the preview.
And then buried my face into Army Boy’s shoulder because WTFWASTHATOMG?!
I felt slightly better when he whispered “I have NO desire to see that. I have seen/lived through some scary shit, but movies like that don’t appeal to me in the slightest.”
(Uh, hello. IRAQ. Ithinkilovehim.)
What didn’t make me feel better was remembering the half of the preview that I DID watch while I was attempting to fall asleep last night at 11:30 and jumping out of my skin at every little noise and snapping on my booklight (shut UP) to illuminate any potential supernatural offenders that may have found their way into my room.
*face wipe packaging spontaneously springs open how does that even happen!?*
I did fall asleep eventually.
The moral of this story is don’t ever read my blog again because I am crazy Scary movies are the gateway drug to Devil Worship that I don’t really have a moral because it’s Monday and this was pretty much all that was swimming around in my head.
That and the desire to get a new cell phone. Or a new cubicle.
(What. I am not giving up on this.)