Like a rabbit, but more quavering and jumpy

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I don't do scary. Not even a little bit. I fundamentally do not understand the appeal of going to one of those commercial haunted house things (I have never been. I will never go. End of story.). Or intentionally viewing a horror film. I'm far too nervous about my everyday life to add additional fuel to the fire of my fears (pyre of my paranoias? conflagration of my concerns?). Some people don't believe me. They assume I'm just sort of nervous, that these things don't affect me that much. Or that I'm like most people who say they don't like horror films but they watch them anyways, squealing and panicking and then letting it go the next day. For me, the uneasy feelings don't dissipate with a new dawn. Or ever, for that matter. In case you might not believe me, here are three examples to show just how little I can handle the frightening.


1. Last fall, in my hell class, we spent a day talking about the horror genre. Not watching any movies, mind, just talking about them. Even this circle of remove wasn't enough to insulate me. The class ended and I realized my jaw hurt really badly. Turns out, I had been so uptight I was clenching my jaw the entire fifty minutes. All just because we were only talking about scary things.

2. I can't ride Indiana Jones at Disneyland. It makes me too nervous. Even the approach, through those purposefully darkened faux caves sends my heart rate soaring. This last September, my nephew wanted to go on the ride when I took him off just the two of us. So I did it, all the while trying to keep my breaths very calm and digging my fingernails into my palms. Then, the only way I can stand the actual ride is to close my eyes the whole time. And I do mean the whole time. I tried opening them once and instantly regretted it. Should I point out that my nephew is six? And that it's probably just about his favorite ride? That's right, I can't handle something that doesn't even make a six year-old flinch. Relatedly, I'm pretty sure hell for me would be having my eyes forced open while riding the Halloween version of Space Mountain. Not over and over again, just a few times, really.

3. I am addicted to Bejeweled Blitz. Like, a lot. Well, the last week or so they themed it up for Halloween. I could handle this for the most part. Except, the usual clinking sound when you start a new game was replaced with one of those throaty, evil laughs so commonly used by ghouls and other nasties in old timey horror works. Without fail, every time I'd click to start a new session (which is really quite often), I'd feel my insides tighten up. And it would usually take a good ten games before the slick feeling went away. All from one creepy laugh. A creepy laugh that was a surprise in neither timing nor quality.

Yeah, see? I really am that timid. Pretty sure if I ever have to face anything really terrifying I will die of fright. After, of course, wetting myself and crying a lot. Let's hope that my worst nightmares stay safely far, far away.

2 comments:

alea said...

Please. This is hardly even the tip of the iceberg of my crazy.

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