I generally do not have occasion to be absolutely terrified in my life. As an anxious person I’m not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, yay no paralyzing, absolute fear from physical things that could hurt me; on the other hand I wonder if I were to have something to be terrified of, something genuinely scary, like a murderer, or a ghost, or a murderous ghost, maybe I wouldn’t be so terrified of the things I don’t think should scare me stupid. Like phone calls.
Palpitations commence if I even consider answering the call of the Dixie Cups emanating from my phone. Nope. I just allow the tune of Iko Iko to continue until the caller gives up and/ or leaves a voicemail. If they don’t leave a voicemail I assume it wasn’t important and that no one died so I don’t need to return the call.
But let me back up a second. I’ve had weird things happen to me. I haven’t always had an explanation, but I assume it’s explained away by something logical. (When frogs started showing up in my house I assumed they were getting in somehow and not the result of a biblical plague, mostly because I know I don’t run an Egyptian empire and because the water in my house never turned to blood.) However there have been a couple times I wasn’t quite sure what was going on and I wasn’t able to come up with a proper explanation.
There was the time several years ago I was sitting on the couch in my living room, probably folding laundry. It was a sunshiny day and you could see the dust motes floating in the light coming through the window. It wasn’t dark or scary or menacing but a glass mixing bowl exploded on the counter in the kitchen. Now when I say exploded…well it sort of cracked suddenly and pieces fell to the floor. I knew I had used that mixing bowl earlier and it was just waiting for its turn to be washed while the dishwasher ran. Maybe it didn’t want to be washed. Maybe it said to itself, “not this time,” then laughed maniacally when it was never washed again. Of course this plan probably backfired because what piece of dishware would rather be tossed in the garbage? Maybe it was depressed?
Perhaps there were tiny fissures in the glass that I couldn’t see. The sunlight caused the glass to heat up and expand and that is when the bowl exploded.
I had another thing happen to me just a couple days ago.
Middle of the night. Emmex was sleeping on my bed but I wanted to get up and grab a drink. (Michigan winters are dry.) Now, my room had been shut for a while. I knew Emmex had been in with me the whole time because he had been sleeping on my hair. When I went to the kitchen though one of the drawers had been opened and I had heard scuffling just behind the vent face. So I knew it wasn’t my cat who had gotten out and attempted to climb in a kitchen drawer and was now struggling to get back into the proper part of the house. I really did not want to open that drawer further and possibly alert whatever it was to the possibility of a ready victim.
I stood there for a moment contemplating what kind of creature could have gotten in and what sort of damage it would do when it dashed out at me. I slowly opened the drawer. There was nothing. Absolutely. Nothing.
It’s completely feasible that this was a squirrel or a possum or a raccoon just scrabbling beneath my trailer and it only sounded like it was coming from further into the house. But I still have no explanation and I was completely terrified for an instant. And I slept pretty well after that encounter.
This brings me back to my original conjecture. Could I at least partially control my anxiety by being exposed to perceived threats once in a while? Sort of a scare me into exhaustion type of thing. This might backfire as well. While I utilize scary shows to make my mind focus on ghosts that could be plotting my death rather than worrying about an apocalypse I usually end up having pretty vivid dreams because of it. If I “dose” myself too much then I run the risk of my imagination running away with me (it doesn’t have to do much convincing) and causing more anxiety than I had previously.
I am also a huge fan of over thinking everything as evidenced by this too long blog post.