Embracing Darkness
Hello darkness. You are not my friend. I have no idea what lurks within your shadows and beneath my bed, but my imagination and bits of reality shape the terror that can freeze me in place.
Since childhood, darkness, you have haunted me. You have been my nemesis. For decades, you defeated me.
You might say that this is a fairly common fear for children and even adults, but where does it start? Where does it come from? I have to imagine that there was a time that I did not need that night light as a child. There must have been. I couldn't have been born with this fear, right?
Some will say that phobias and fears, even those that are irrational, stem from some event. Some trauma. I mean, there have been traumatic things to happen in my life, but in relation to the dark?Nope. I got nothing on that one. But then again, if there was truly a trauma, would one actually know? I mean people suppress those, don't they?
I do know that my fear of the dark had nothing to do with exposure to horror movies and true crime because I was afraid of the dark long before I was ever into those. And even the scariest of those, I mostly dug - mostly. Of course, I will admit to running from my house to my friends' homes on the way to our bus stop on many foggy mornings after watching the fog- yes I know I said I don't run, but please know that running for me was even then more of a skittering race walk with a racing heart and prayers that the ghostly dregs from the deep would not appear.
And I know that ever since watching the Exorcist the idea of possession completely freaks me out. But hey, we watched that in the middle of the day, a perfectly sunny day. I didn't even get nightmares from it. So what was it?
I can clearly remember entering my home after dark over the years. It did not matter the home. The routine was always quite similar Open the door and very carefully slide just one hand in to quickly feel around for the closest lightswitch. Click on. Slink throughout each room, back pressed firmly against the wall in search of each light to illuminate every corner and crevice. Carefully, yet full of panic, inspect behind doors, in closets, under beds, and behind shower curtains. What the ever living hell people? Talk about completely freaked out!
What was it about the night that brought my breath to shallow sputters and made my heart and mind race?
I remember in college, after some rather gruesome events in our area, my first night that I worked past three am. There were no parking places within our complex, with its well lighted sidewalks amidst the drooping moss covered trees. The panic set in the moment I realized I had to park a street away, in an unlit area, and somehow make it to my apartment unscathed, heart intact. At that time, there was a boogeyman somewhere, although it was possible he was long gone. But for the first time, this fear of the dark at least felt justified. But really, it was the same old fear.
It was the fear that kept me hiding in my bed as a preschooler, terrified to walk to the bathroom even with the nightlight on. That fear that made it hard to fake having fun as a young kid playing outside after dark. It was the fear that propelled me from my own home when my friend thought he was funny and flipped off the electric to the house when my parents were out for the evening. And it was the very same fear that intensified even in my twenties living in the solitude of the country, having to arrive home to a home in the middle of nowhere at any time after the sun had disappeared.
The dark, in adulthood, could trap me inside. Inside I was safe, as long as it had all been checked out in advance that is. Inside I could sit in the dark, as long as the tv was on and a million candles were lit. I could fake a happy relationship with the dark. But it was a farce.
And then something funny happened. I don't exactly know when. I don't even know how. But I noticed it. There was a day when the dark no longer bothered me. I could enter the house with not a light left on and not approach entering as a military undertaking. I can sit outside in the middle of our country yard and listen to the sounds of the night and locate an inner zen. And I only need a nightlight so I don't trip over the dog or shoes and kill myself while making it to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
How did this just disappear? How did I triumph over a lifelong struggle? Did it happen when I stopped living a false reality in so many other facets of my life? Did I have a seizure and kill that neuron holding onto fear of all things dark? Or did I just grow up? Absolutely no clue.
I wish I could write down a recipe or diagram the steps to overcoming your fears. It'd be worth millions to parents of littles like the little that was once me. But like most things of the mind, I can guess, I can employ popular psychology, I can even just make that crap up.
Or, like my fear, I can let it go to disappear within the dark recesses of my mind. Maybe that is the real lesson here. Not HOW to overcome. Just simply accept that overcoming is natural. That true contentment amidst the unknown is to just let it be. Just let it go.
Hello darkness. You are peaceful and beautiful.
PS- I do believe that those with whom you surround yourself with are critical to support feelings of safety and can bolster one's ability to let go and see the beauty in all things- even darkness
Comments
Post a Comment