Who’s Afraid Of The Dark?

OK, confession time. I’m afraid of the dark. Well, not the dark itself but things that go bump in the night. Noises in the dark, the natural creaking of the house winding down after the day, alarms going off. They all freak me out. I can’t watch horror movies either. They give me nightmares or even worse, leave me so terrified that I can’t sleep at all. In other words, I am a complete chicken shit.

As a child, I spent many sleepless nights terrified of the monsters, vampires and zombies that were coming to get me. On nights such as these I would screw up my courage and bound from my bed to the middle of the room. (If I merely slipped out of the bed, the creature hiding underneath it could grab me by the ankle). Then I would take off like Speedy Gonzales into my parents’ room. Once there I would utter not one word, but slip quietly in between my parents and fall asleep there knowing that I was safe and that they would look after me.

One night, my mother tried to get me to sleep on the edge of the bed beside her but I was having none of it. I figured that when I snuggled down between Mam and Dad, any monster coming in the bedroom door would have to get through Mam to reach me and any vampire sneaking in the window would get Dad first.

In defence of my youthful self, I had self-preservation skills more highly tuned that those of a vintage MacGyver.

My night time fears probably came from a combination of whispered stories, TV and reading combined with an already overactive imagination that I was unable to control at night. Thank goodness there was no internet back then or I would have been totally snookered.

One night, I can honestly swear that I saw a fat, hairy arm with long purple talons come around the door of the room I shared with my two sisters. After 30 minutes or so of keeping my head under the duvet, hiding from the monster, I decided it must have slipped into the wardrobe or back out the door again.

I wish I could tell you that I grew out of it. I didn’t. I’m a mother now and I’m supposed to be the one comforting the kids when they are frightened. Instead, I’m like Shaggy in Scooby Doo. A perfectly pleasant, harmless character but not a person you can rely on in a scary situation.

A few years ago, in an attempt to confront my irrational fears, I re watched a scene from the mini-series ‘Salem’s Lot’ which has haunted my nights since I was about 13. In the scene, a child vampire floats outside the window of his twin brother, knocking, and calling to be let in. The background music was dodgy and I’m sure I could see the wires holding up the vampire but I was so terrified that I had to turn off the TV. To this day, I still cannot watch it.

My husband travels sometimes with work. Occasionally, when he is away, I find myself rooted to the bed with fear after a nightmare. The difference now, is there is nowhere for me to go when I am afraid of the dark. I’m sure if I had a nightmare whilst visiting my parents they wouldn’t be impressed to be woken by their 41-year-old daughter trying to squeeze in to the bed beside them.

So, when I wake silently screaming and in a cold sweat, I calm myself down by quietly getting up and sneaking into my children’s room to check that they are OK. The sounds of their peaceful breathing, completely at odds with the chaotic vision of their limbs entangled with bed clothes soothes my irrational brain and calms my crazy heartbeat.

I don’t think that I am going to change at this stage. I will always be a scaredy cat. In my mind, my children are incredibly brave. (That will be the paternal genes). They have never yet sought solace as a result of fear in the middle of the night. Last year there was a time when Big Girl admitted a fear of space aliens coming into her room in the middle of the night. She solved the problem by making and colouring a sign proclaiming ‘Aliens not welcome here’. The picture was hung on the side of the bunk bed and Big Girl felt safe once more. A few months later, she took down the sign and consigned it to the bin.

I wish that I could quiet my irrational night fears with a ‘Vampires not welcome here’ sign but the comforting sight of my children asleep goes further for me than any sign ever will and when I have an occasional nightmare that does me just fine. Oh, that and only PG rated movies for me from now on.