My Brain's a Wimp.

   

     Believe it or not, this was not as long ago as you would think. I was probably 12. Not a full-blown kid, but still young enough to get away with many child-like activities and shenanigans. My family and I drove to Valley View Farms around this same time about four years ago. Valley View Farms is a great place to hang out in October since they have plenty of fall decorations, giant pumpkins and cool Halloween decorations to browse through, not to mention the fact that they had their Christmas aisles already decked with boughs and holly, a whopping month and a half ahead of schedule. Before I go any further, I must explain that as a kid, I was deathly afraid of all things Halloween. Now, I didn't mind looking at some creepy Halloween decorations, so long as they didn't jump, move towards me, make scary noises, or really do anything else but sit still and look spooky. I don't know when I developed this fear, but I know that is dominated my October season for my entire childhood, and a little of that guttural fear has transferred over to my young adulthood.
     We walked past the Halloween decorations, and I was proud of myself. I was at the point where I started to like the very thing that made me so scared. I enjoyed Halloween much more that year, and I didn't dread walking with my siblings through scary setups in neighbor's yards. So I was happy that I could now stand looking at a few rotting zombies hanging off the shelves at Valley View without getting an unearthly chill down my spine and my brain screaming at me to leave. Deep down, however, I knew why my family was here. They wanted to do the Halloween Tunnel that Valley View Farms set up every year. It was dark, not too long, but definitely not short, and chock full of all of their best scary decorations. I'm not talking about some mellow skeletons climbing up a wall. I'm talking mats with sensors that would make the dark cage to your left start to shake violently and the decaying corpse inside start to scream. I wanted nothing to do with it. But my family had other plans.
     My mom grabbed my hand as I was walking the aisles and told me I would do the Halloween Tunnel with everyone else. I froze. I don't know why I felt the way I did, but my brain immediately shut down. I tugged my hand away from hers and replied, "No way,". I ran out of her reach, her calling for me to get back to where she was. My brain had already decided that I would die if I went in there. So I tried to hide in the Christmas tree sections of Valley View, pretending to admire the evergreens like there was no tomorrow. In reality, my mind was racing at a million miles an hour and told me that nothing could make me go in there. Apparently, my mind was wrong, because against every protest, me on the verge of tears, my mom dragged me to the entrance and we started to walk in. I had to keep my eyes open to walk ahead of me, but I was in a state of shock. This is the thing I said I couldn't do, there's no way, I need to leave now. I virtually had an anxiety attack. I was sweating, I was yelling at my mom, yet she continued to drag me through. When I looked around me, I wasn't completely scared. I was actually kind of interested. What used to be so scary for me now was kind of cool. I had grown up in a way that my primal brain didn't even know yet. As soon as we walked out, I breathed a sigh of relief. I did it.
     Looking back, it seems kind of ridiculous. It wasn't a big deal, and my own thoughts made me much more scared than anything they had in their Halloween section. So I ask myself why. Why did I act like that? I don't think I'll ever know what made me so deathly afraid of your typical "scary" thing. To this day, I can't watch horror movies, I detest haunted houses, and good luck getting me to go on a haunted hayride. Again, to many, you may think that I am a coward and have stupid fears. But I love riding roller coasters and have no fear of heights. In fact, I call myself a thrill junkie, always craving larger heights and faster speeds. Next time you judge someone for having an "irrational" fear, just think of what makes your skin crawl. My lot in life was to be afraid of nightmarish abominations that are made to scare. I used to hate the fact that I feel as though I can't watch horror movies or walk through haunted houses. But now, I've learned to embrace it.