Second post in a series. Please read this post beforehand. No really, I’m just rambling about me in this post, that post is about you. Please check it out?
Second prompt for the month, is for me to
“Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.”
The Fear: All things horror, thrillers, paranormal..
Apparently a study came out which stated that women enjoy horror movies more than men. I am most definitely an exception. I do not enjoy being scared or losing my sleep or having nightmares, at.all. I am easily impressed, as in affected deeply or strongly, by those types of things. Some people enjoy having their imaginations teased like that. I do not. And I’m not talking just about Dawn of the Dead, American Psycho, or I don’t know, whatever you consider a top horror movie. I mean Jaws, CSI, Prison Break and even some episodes of HOUSE or Grey’s Anatomy. Sorry McDreamy.
No horrific past experience, no other reason than I was simply born that way. I feel life has enough sorrow and horrific things and stories. I’m drawn to uplifting things. I’m sorry, but I don’t consider CSI uplifting; in fact, I’m pretty sure it would make me an agoraphobic for sure. I know, lame. *shrug*
The Fear: Being Alone..
Sure. I can deal with alone time. In fact I crave it sometimes, and oftentimes thrive on it. When it’s an option. I don’t believe anyone actually enjoys being alone. Nobody to talk to, no one to go home to, no one. I love my family and to one day not have them is something I don’t enjoy dwelling on. I need them.
Aren’t we all just built like that? Some of us are more solitary than others, yet all of us crave some form of human companionship and interaction? I’ve never really been good at explaining things. Yeah, I die a little of a lot when I see “Explain” at the end of a question on a test.
The Fear: Being misunderstood.. (or talking without thinking in general..)
*sigh* I word things badly, and they come out wrong, and three hours later I smack my head and think…”That was not how that was supposed to have gone … ” And most of the time, it’s my fault. I don’t mean to hurt, but I do. It’s not always “Not what you say but how you say it.” There’s a lot to what you say too. I’m learning..
One of the first times I can remember when I said something without thinking without any intention of being mean at all, was oh, at least six or seven years ago. (I have a terrible memory, but it’s really good at remembering embarrassing situations in my life, and trust me, I have plenty. I’m a klutz with actions and speech.)
Anyways, onto the story, my best friend’s older sister had a friend over one time. This friend was super tall, blonde, and beautiful. However, she was at least a foot taller than the rest of the girls in our little group of five. Late at night we were all gathered in the older sister’s bedroom, and somehow the conversation turned to height. I began rambling about how I wanted to be tall, but not too tall. In my mind, this was in no way offensive. I was the tallest in my classes when I attended public school; people often predicted I would be really tall, and I was thought that was great. In my mind I was simply imagining what it’d be like being tall, not so tall, hmm, I don’t want to be short, but maybe not so tall I look down on men’s heads, and so on…
As I rambled and twirled in an office chair, I’d catch a glimpse of my friends behind the tall friend, motioning for me to stop. As in, on their knees on the bed, eyebrows arched, pleading look, and motioning for me to stop by sweeping their hands across their necks, and mouthing STOP. I continued spinning totally missing the point, almost stopping and being all, “What?!” Dense much? Eventually tall friend spoke up, “So, what do you mean you don’t want to be too tall?”
Ohhhh!!!! I get it now…
So … um … I’ve had enough of that, I’ve been working on thinking faster than I speak.