The Horror Master, Stephen King, Understands Me

"The three types of terror: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it's when the lights go out and something a green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, it's when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel it's breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there's nothing there... "

~Stephen King

What is terror? Terror is being awakened from a deep sleep, by the sound of your home security system, alerting you that an intruder has attempted entry! That happened to me yesterday, at 7:23 AM. My phone was lit up red. My alarm system was lit up red. Both were screaming, loudly, both saying someone had tried to come in through the back door, off the living room. I couldn't function. I am not sure if it was because the sound of the alarms terrified me, or if it was because I was barely dressed. Or if it was because I had no idea what the intruder wanted. Was it an attempted robbery? An attempted rape? Someone itching to commit murder? What did they want?

I will never know the answer to that question. By the time I could function, about 3 or 4 minutes, they were gone. I never got a chance to see who they were. A man? A woman? A wacky child? A ghost? A vampire? I have no idea, which makes the whole thing a lot worse, because I will play the "whatif's" the rest of my life. Or, more realistically, at least for the rest of the time I spend in this house! What if we had never installed an alarm system? What if the back door hadn't been locked? What if I had seen them? What if the fur babies had been hurt? What if? What if? What if?

It's terrifying not knowing if they spent time watching the house, waiting for Alan to leave. It's a terrifying thought that I will have to spend Thursday and Friday of this week, alone in the house. Do I sleep? Can I sleep? How do I face this fear? I guess I have no real choice. I will face Thursday and Friday, and every other day, going forward, alone. Alan can't do the work on the fear for me. That's mine. I suppose I will be okay. Alan is going to run a couple errands in the middle of the day tomorrow, which will give me a chance to be in the house alone. That will be a healthy thing for me, I think. I hope. If only I could shake the feeling from this morning...

"... It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel it's breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there's nothing there... ".

 What if the "nothing there" terror comes back?

Autumn Leaf Of The Day

#10 Leaf Of The Day

October 2nd 2019

Stockton, California

Nikon

~Mood: Scared

~Me

 

The Face On The Cup

"I wish you'd help me look into a more interesting problem... namely, my sanity."

~Kurt Vonnegut

I took this picture in, I believe, 2007. I was still going to once a week therapy sessons, and working really hard on eliminating the pain and sorrow that had plaqued me for what felt like forever, but in reality had been since the late 90's. A decade of pain... it can feel like forever, because it was difficult to sit on that couch every week, knowing that for that hour I couldn't ignore that pain.

There was a lot to look at in the therapist's office, but my eyes were usually drawn to his desk. There was a stuffed Sigmund Freud doll. A lot of books about love, and a stack of cups, which never seemed to go down in size. One day I happened to notice that the stack of cups, that usually sat on the side of the desk, was a little off from it's usual position. Rather than sitting on the left side of the desk the stack of cups was now on the right side, fairly close to the couch I was sitting on. The bottom cup seemed to have something written on it, but it was turned so I couldn't quite make it out.

During the session, and in an effort to change the subject we were discussing, I reached over and turned the cups around to get a better look at it. To my surprise, there was a face staring back at me! And the face, not surprisingly, seemed to understand how I was feeling!

I am not sure who drew the little face. Was it the supervising doctor? Was it a patient? I had no way of knowing, but over the next few months I made friends with the little face on the cup. It, in an odd way, made me feel less alone. Clearly the cup face had seen, and probably heard, a lot of stories. Some sadder than mine, some not as sad. The face had wisdom and experience. You can't ask for more than that in a good therapist. Right?

All I know... the face on the cup seemed to understand. :) I miss the face sometimes, but like an old friend I haven't seen for a while, I will never forget the times we spent making friends!

Mood: Happy... and WELL ADJUSTED! LOL.

~Me :)