I have a confession to make to you.

I know that I'm going to receive a lot of bullshit for this one. Maybe it's the 2 shots of vodka and 4 Mike's Hard Lemonades flowing through my bloodstream. Maybe it's just the fact that this is my diary and it seems to amuse a few people out there to read about my random thoughts and occasional hijinks. Whatever it is, I need to confess something.

*sigh*

I'm afraid of the dark.

No, I'm not joking. I really am afraid of the dark.

I'm not saying that every little shadow turns me into a blubbering idiot. It varies. Most of the time I can act completely normal, barely noticing the nervous little voice in the back of my head. Sometimes I'm more outwardly nervous and feel the need to turn on a light or two. Other times, like just a second ago, it's a full on meltdown.

Sure, it's funny now, and I'm going to relate the incident to you all fully intending to make you all laugh. Hell, I'm laughing my ass off about in now, but deep down, in the pit of my stomach, that little kernel of dread has merely retreated, it's not gone, just not as noticeable.

I had just washed my face and was lounging on the couch with a couple cucumber slices over my eyes. Cosmo and I were watching I Love The 70's on VH1 and telling each other slip and slide horror stories. Eventually, I got up and walked into the kitchen to toss my cucumber slices away. I open the cabinet under the sink and drop the slices in the bin and think to myself, "I should make sure the back door is locked." I take a step towards the laundry room and am about to round the corner to the door, but suddenly this "What if..." pops into my brain.

What if I turn the corner and someone [something] is lurking right there outside of the security screen?

The same second that I think that, I get this vision of a Michael/Rage Zombie figure standing on the porch outside of the door. Immediatly, I'm filled with this blind panic. I can't breathe, I can't move, I'm absolutely terrified. The rational part of me is completely drowned out by my imagination. At that moment, I know that is I turn the corner so I can see the door, I'll see one of my worst nightmares lurking out there.

So what do I do? I make a feeble attempt to calm myself and face up to my fear and prove myself wrong. I fail miserably and instead turn and flee the kitchen as fast as I possibly can. I avoid looking out of any windows; I flop down in a chair in the front room, avoiding looking out the front door at all costs, and tell Cosmo what happened.

We laugh; she more than I, and we go back to watching the show, after she promises me she'll check that back door for me.

So yeah. For all my big talk and love of horror movies, all things blood and gore, and dark and twisted sense of humor, every once in awhile the mere thought of looking out into my front yard at night can turn me into a panic-stricken mess.

*sigh*