Day Five/Home: 09/03/09

1:15 pm

I don't remember what I blogged yesterday. Well the family went to Animal Kingdom and Downtown Disney Shopping village. I stayed at the hotel. I rested, read my books, got food at the caf, packed, and organized all that. They came back; we packed more, settled in for the night. I was horribly awakened at 3:45 am, dozed until 3:54 am when my foot was shaken and I was firmly told to GET UP. Got ready, left the suite at 4:39 am. The Disney Magical Express airport shuttle bus arrived about 4:50-4:55 am. It was NOT magical. Two stops after picking us up, & a 40 minute ride to the airport. The bus played music from some of the rides at the parks. It SUCKED. I was so thankful to own an iPod. We got to the airport about 5:45 & checked our bags. We headed to the restrooms and then to Starbucks. Tazo Tea: Sweetened Shaken Iced Tea Passion Lemonade. And an espresso brownie. I discovered I lost the tie-belt to my favorite sweater while we were at Starbucks. I was so upset, still am. Gracie claimed she saw it in the restroom but didn't realize it was mine (I wonder so often, Where is her head?? But I know I'm like that too and our dad. ADHD/ADD is NOT cool). She ran back to look. She didn't find it sadly, so I went and found the sweetest friendliest most cheerful janitor to ask where the lost and found was. I loved him. His English was not impressive but he was so sweet. Mum and I headed over to the lost and found. They didn't open until 7. I wrote down the number & email. I still have to call them. I'm going to ASAP. We went through security after waiting for the 11-year-old to go to the ladies' AGAIN. We got to our gate and boarded in about 10 minutes. I closed my eyes and had my hands over my face when we went up. I hate flying and I hate heights. I read my book during the flight and it was somewhat enjoyable. The flight that is, my book is great. As soon as the seat belt light clicked on, and the captain told us we were beginning our descent, my stomach nose dived. Nauseous for the rest of the flight. I wasn't ok until I got to baggage claim. We got off the plane and I went down there while everyone else hit the restrooms. I'd gotten three of our bags by the time they got there. We got our bags, Daddy picked up the car, and we went HOME. My nervous-anxiety-OCD kicked in and I was in a mad rush to unpack and organize and clean. Like panic attack, freaking out, I couldn't handle it not being all taken care of. So I did. We were home about 11:15 and I was unpacked by 12:45. And that’s entirely unpacked. Toiletries, clothes, shoes, carry on, everything. I'm folding the laundry now and I have 5 days worth of newspapers to read. It’s so amazing to be home. I'm so tired. I have things to do though. Goodbye Florida. ...Hello my home in New Hampshire.

I messed up this post somehow. Don't know how. Not pleased.

This is what I forgot to post about and even wrote a post to myself not to forget and I still forgot.
You can see how my brain functions. In waves. One minute I'm up the next I'm down. Another metaphor is a roller coaster. I've known that I have this fear and that it is somewhat crippling, but sometimes you don't realize how serious it is, or how much you really fear it until something happens or some little tiny thing in your head clicks and it’s like "WHOA". I'd say mine was the click.

I'm scared of the dark. Terrified. I've always known I hated it, that I didn't like to be alone in it. For the most part I can't fall asleep with a single crack of light though.

One of the worst is the moon. I'd be happy if the moon never came out because it makes it impossible to sleep.

Anyway, I don't know what I was thinking about the other night but somehow I started to think about how I'm scared of the dark. And my thoughts started journeying back to when I was very young and I remember how terrified I was of the dark then and how not much has changed other than I learned to hide it more and steel myself when I have to go into the dark.

But I hate it. I hate having to going into the dark and grit my teeth all the while my heart is pounding in my chest and I’m struggling to breathe correctly.

I remember being little and having a nightlight. I think we had one in our (Sophie and mine) room and then one outside in the hall. I think that’s what we did.

I remember not being able to fall asleep alot of the time. That was partly due to my fear of the dark and probably partly due to my ADHD and Bipolar Disorder, both undiagnosed at the time. Almost every night one of my parents would sit out in the hall until we fell asleep or they were starting to doze off. I never understood how they were able to fall asleep so easily.

I have memories of my mom falling asleep when she'd be rubbing my back trying to help ME fall asleep and that I'd have to send her to bed. Eventually I stopped asking her to rub my back, for a few reasons. I knew she'd fall asleep and that it wouldn't help me relax.

I don't remember when we stopped using a nightlight. I think it was when I couldn't relax with it on anymore and when I decided I was too old to have one. I know I and Soph had moved into the other room at the front of the house and let baby Grace have the room we'd been in for the last three years. Sometime after switching rooms the nightlight was put away. I don't remember if Gracie ever used one. Probably.

When I was younger, I had nightmares. NO, night terrors. There were about three and they always repeated themselves. I remember them so clearly. I don’t eve know how I would explain them because they don't make any logical sense, but then how does any nightmare or dream make perfect sense all the time?

I remember I'd sometimes wakeup crying. I don't know if I ever woke up screaming. I wouldn't doubt it, but I'll have to see if my mom remembers. She wasn't the easiest person to wake up.

When I needed her at night, like if I woke up, I wouldn't be able to move. If the house ever caught on fire and I was the only one awake I'm not sure if I'd have been able to move because the dark would be the fear that won.

I'd wake up and stay exactly where I was, almost not daring to breathe, but my eyes darting everywhere. I'd lay in bed trying to get the nerve to call for her. If I was eventually able to do that, I'd be unable to make my voice go very high. It was too loud in a dark quiet house and I'd quake every time I had to yell "Mummy!". If she woke up, and came all was well. If she didn't wake up, I'd been in bed hoping and praying I could make myself get up. Usually I forced myself at some point, which adds to the reason I can do that now, because I had to force myself then so now I can force myself now.

I'd get up and race for my parents’ bed. There room was a 4 second walk from our door to theirs but I ran from my bed to theirs in under 6. I was always scared to death.

It’s worse in some ways now because we have pets. Maggie sleeps in her crate, but the two cats wander freely. I can't see them if its dark and I hate walking in the house at night for any reason because I can't turn the lights on or I can't turn them on fast enough for comfort. The lights could be on throughout the whole downstairs but if its late and everyone is asleep I'm scared still.

I figured and remembered all this the other night, Tuesday I believe and I told my mom that day. I asked for nightlights. She found one which makes it a bit easier. But I want them scattered throughout the house. I'm a late night snacker. I get hungry frequently. It's the hardest thing in the world to go downstairs and grab something to eat.

Our girls' bathroom is two, maybe three steps from my door and my heart is pounding by the time I've closed the door behind me. When I open it to go back to my room I'm always scared I'll open it to find a cat because I know I'll jump and make some loud noise either from my voice or just bumping something.

I fell asleep with the nightlight on in my room last night. It was good.

I realized something really sad and also bad. I can't ever move out and live on my own. I would be absolutely petrified. That means I'm stuck living at home until I have a guy or a friend who wants to share a place with me. I can't ever live alone. I dread the idea of it.

I'm not borrowing trouble now, but if my husband dies before me and all our kids are grown and move out I'm going to be moving into a home or something if none of the kids want me in there. Which is fine, I have no problem living in some nice retirement home. I'll still be independent and I won't be alone. I don't mind that. I'd rather not be alone then full of pride and stubbornness about living on my own.

So that’s THAT fear. I looked up the name for that phobia yesterday. Pretty annoying names phobias have and my phobia has FIVE!
Nyctophobia: Fear of the dark or night,
Lygophobia: Fear of being in a dark place,
(And the most annoying)Achluopobia, Myctophobia and Scotophobia: Darkness.
Darkness needs three names apparently. Ridiculousness.

It feels good to be able to figure all this out and at the same time scary because I hate voicing my fears. It makes them real and easier to think about.
It feels good because now people know. My mom knows which makes me feel better.
I've hidden it well. There have been times though that if Sophie has been up late at night like me and I need to go downstairs I'll beg her to come with me. She does, somewhat annoyed. She hasn't ever realized how much the dark scares me but that’s ok. I never wanted it to be obvious.

Ok then. I'm going to maybe write about something else, or shower and pack for Florida. The shower and packing will happen anyway but I don't know if I have anything else to write about :)

I lied, I can't ever get off.

Still working on that ringtone.

I'm so freaking distracted! I think my vyvanse is off again. Bother.

I also remembered something I wanted to blog about.

Ok, note to self: blog about the dark tomorrow.