Spooky Scary

We're going to learn a few things about Megan today. Tis the season, after all. The season... to be afraid!

Which I'm really opposed to, by the way. The primary factoid Factoid Prime, I really dislike scary things. Jump scares get me, every time, no matter how prepared I am for them. Long drawn out suspense terrifies me, and never in a, "Oh boy, rush of adrenaline, can't wait for more of that!" way. I once went to a lock-in movie night where the theme was horror movies. BIG mistake. I bundled up in the hallway outside the movie room in my sleeping bag, reading by flashlight. BUT EVEN THEN! I was in a long, dark hallway by myself, with horror movie sounds vaguely creeping out from under the door, and the trilling sound of horror movie soundtracks echoing against the tile floors. So I went back into the room because at least there were people there. 

But they were respectful movie viewers. Everyone was quietly attentive to the movies. Not even a little riffing on the hoakier aspects of the movies. I could have been as genre savvy as humanly possible and it would have done me no good. I was wide awake until my dad came to pick me up around dawn. I was afraid to be alone in the car when he ran to do some errands at Lowe's on the way home. 

This can only be topped, however, by my paralyzing, persisting fear of zombies. It's funny, because the fear naturally arose with the spike in popularity in media. With every new zombie movie, with the zombie retellings of classic books, with the video games of gunning down whole hoards of zombies, I could not escape it. I even went to see Zombieland in theaters, in hopes that a zombie-related comedy would make this exposure therapy easier to suffer. It was funny, entertaining, I had a good time. I woke up in cold sweats from nightmares for the next month. 

Now, anyone who knows me knows I love Halloween. I recently met some old friends of my dad's, and when they asked me about plans for Halloween, they remarked how I was my father's daughter in loving the holiday, in making my own costumes. I've gone through and put up with a lot of scary things to enjoy Halloween. It's because I want to, though. It isn't always easy. At some point, however, I decided to own my fear. I would like to think that I'm a big tough gal who 'don't afeared of no thing,' but I'm not. I am comfortable with laughing off that I'm a big chicken. I've made a point to go through haunted houses and hayrides with friends, MST3K-ing the whole way through with panicked laughter. I was proud when I muscled through watching Stranger Things so I could talk about the great characters. 

I can be stubborn. I'm definitely someone who learns through experience and mistakes. So it's taken me a while to come to this conclusion, but here we are... It's okay to be afraid. Oh snap, it was an analogy! I am able to enjoy Halloween, despite so much of it playing host to things that terrify me. I can allow myself to be scared in life, in giving things a try or taking a chance. Good can still come from it. I also can avoid things I know will only bring me pain, like zombies. But, and most importantly, I can acknowledge that the world is always changing, much like I am changing. Giving something another chance can be worth it. Maybe, someday down the line, I won't have an irrational fear of the undead. 

Maybe. =]