March 1, 2015
12:56 p.m.

Fear Part 3

Over the past few days I've touched on a couple of fears of mine, both rational and irrational--being alone, rational; clown dolls, irrational (Or is it?)--and I guess I'll continue this little soul search today.

Death.

It's a fear many of us have, and for many different reasons. My fear of death has been constant throughout my life, but my reasoning has changed time and again over the years.

When I was a little girl, it occurred to me one day that I would not always be here, that someday--God alone knew when--I would die.

And then what? Where would I be? Would I know I was there? Would I see my family again? Would they *gasp* see me again?

It all seemed so unfair! Why did I have to die? I just got here, man!

It was all about me at that point in my life. I was going to have to die. Me! What would happen to the world without me in it?

Someone told me death was "just like going to sleep." I don't remember who it was, but through that I think I may have developed a fear of sleeping. What if I fell asleep and never woke up?

(No wonder I'm a raving insomniac! I need to remember who told me that and punch him/her in the nose!)

Then I thought, well, when I sleep I have dreams, sometimes really great dreams. When I'm dead, will I dream? Or will I exist in a sort of dream state? That doesn't seem so bad.

Now, here's where the vampires come in.

When I was in first grade, a soap opera called "Dark Shadows" started playing on television. I would race home after school each afternoon to watch it.

Ah, Barnabas Collins! Charismatic, sexy vampire! Bringer of death--or un-death. Intriguing. Thrilling. Spooky!

So much fun in the daytime.

Not so much at night.

I became convinced that a vampire might seek me out while I slept. Not Barnabas. (I should be so lucky--he'd never kill me! He'd turn me into a vampire and I'd live forever.) No, not Barnabas, but some evil vampire set on completely draining my blood and leaving me cold and dead in my bed, a mystery to be solved by no one, because no one really believed in vampires.

My solution? I started sleeping with my head under the covers. If he couldn't find my neck, he couldn't get me!

But that logic was flawed--I was six, but I wasn't stupid. All any self-respecting vampire would have to do is pull the covers down, and--viola--my neck would be exposed to his deadly fangs.

What was I to do?

Somewhere I obtained a glow-in-the-dark crucifix. It was white plastic, about six inches long. I have no idea where it came from. Maybe my grandmother. Who knows? Anyway, I latched onto that thing like a Titanic survivor clinging to a lifeboat. I slept with it laying on my chest on the outside of my covers, which were drawn tightly, protectively over my throat. Vampire repellent, which I devoutly believed in! I was saved!

Yes, I understand completely that my imagination was my own worst enemy. Sometimes it still is. But I'm also often wildly entertained by it!

I don't remember how long I did the crucifix thing, but of course I outgrew it. Probably at about the same time it became clear to me that not only was I going to die, but everyone I knew was going to die.

Somehow, this was much worse for me than the issue of my own death. (Actually, this is still the case.)

So...wait a minute...my mom could die? My dad? Nope. No, no, no.

At this point, I decided that I needed to go first, because I could not bear to lose them.

But...what if I went too soon? Then I would miss a lot of time with them! How would I know when it was time to beat them to the exit?

This death stuff is confusing and complicated, isn't it?

And I made it all worse by getting married and having children.

Oh, no! What if something happened to one of my kids? Yep, I absolutely have to go first!

Only now I don't want to go yet, because grandchildren.

There are so many, many reasons to fear death! For me, they have definitely become entwined with my desire to have time with my family. It's the reason I wish I could be everywhere at once. I want to have every single second possible with my loved ones, because sooner or later, I am going to die.

And I don't know what happens next.

Death.

I'm going to die. Everyone I love is going to die. Everyone I have met or ever will meet is going to die. Complete strangers are going to die.

That's messed up.

But it's not the scariest part.

To be continued...

See ya!