When I say “dark,” I do not mean “evil.” My soul feels heavy — it always has, but more here as of late. You see, I enjoy the macabre, the different, the unusual. I used Edward Gorey’s illustration above to kind of show what I mean. You know, I think I could fit into Victorian times, with no problem.
When I was little, my mother said that she was creeped out by the fact that I had an imaginary friend. I would have tea parties with said imaginary friend? Was it REALLY imaginary? I really don’t know, as I don’t remember. Later on, I started drawing skulls because I was intrigued. My Mom again asked me to stop that, because it wasn’t normal. I stopped at her request. TV shows like the Munsters and the Addams Family were my favorites and I watched them often!
I learned to read at three, in a cemetery. My Dad would take us on trips to cemeteries to look up ancestors. He would write the surname on a 3″ x 5″ card. He would go one way and I would go another. It would be a contest of sorts. While we are finding ancestors, my Mom would setup a picnic lunch, while taking care of my baby brother. As I progressed in my reading, I read and fell in love with Edgar Allen Poe and Agatha Christie. The darkness of the Alice In Wonderland and the Wizard of Oz books, were, as Alice said, “Curiouser and curiouser!” Most kids, when going to state fairs want to ride exciting rides on the midway. Not me, I could be found looking at all of the curiosities inside the side shows. I craved the unusual, the macabre.
I think as a child and a teen, it was the thrill of being spooked that I craved. I loved listening to ghost stories or watching scary movies on the weekends. I LOVE truly suspenseful films, with Alfred Hitchcock being one of my faves. It wasn’t until I was raped at sixteen and then married to an abusive man for over 23 years, that I knew it wasn’t the monsters I needed to be afraid of. I also worked within the Indiana DOC in a women’s correctional facility. I saw, firsthand, the damage that abusers can do. I cannot unhear some of their stories, that were related to me when I was an addictions counselor.
I still love the classic horror films, ones dealing with ghosts or the supernatural, and true accounts. I cannot watch super gory ones like Saw. Those are pointless, as it’s just a bloodfest. Tonight, my boyfriend was excited to see the new Hellraiser on Hulu, because the new PinHead was a woman. I stated that I would watch it with him. Sadly, it was so gory and violent, my anxiety shot up to epic proportions. The new villain being a woman kind of got lost in the extreme violence.
I am competing in a contest Face of Horror, to win $13K, a part in a horror film, and an overnight stay in an alleged haunted place. I would love to win it to help my family and be thrilled to be involved in a movie and stay where there may be paranormal activity. I think I would be alright, as I know that I would not be in any danger from any HUMAN trying to hurt me. That, THAT is the scary part that I can no longer fathom or tolerate. No monsters, not haunted places — the paranormal does not scare me, simply because I desire to know what happens beyond this life. If I were a ghost, I would want to communicate to, so I try to investigate and communicate.
I’m saddened that horror films have been ruined for me, but they have become progressively more and more violent and graphic. The thrill that I used to love can sometimes turn to a panic attack for me. I don’t like it, but I am still here and still healing. I will continue to persevere!