I didn't have anything to write about today. But while I was reading my favourite blogs, I had an Aha Moment. I was visiting C. Beth Blog and while I was making my comment the proverbial light bulb turned on. Aha!
C. Beth was talking about fears.
I have several.
The usual ones.
And the dark.
Yes, you read that right.
I'm 43 years old and I'm afraid of the dark.
Terrified, in fact.
I said it.
It's not funny.
I think I can pinpoint when it happened.
I was a wee thing; about 5 or 6 years old.
I was tossing and turning in my sleep.
(I've never really been a good sleeper.)
I woke up in the middle of the night.
Desperately needing to pee.
The room was dark.
I couldn't really see anything.
But I knew where the door was.
So I hop out of bed and walk to where I know the door is.
But the door wasn't there.
Suddenly, I was completely disoriented.
I frantically started feeling around.
Where's the door?!
My bladder is full to brimming now.
In my panicked state, I start fumbling around in the dark.
Bumping into things
When suddenly ... yes ... my bladder lets go.
I was crying.
Even at that tender age, I was humiliated.
Eventually I found the door.
Got to the bathroom.
Cleaned myself up.
Cleaned up the floor.
Never told mom.
But since then, I am fully aware that things go bump in the dark.