Dark Places.

When I was little, I was afraid of the dark.

As I got older I grew out of it. I learned that the scary shadows that resembled monsters (or scary babysitters, or...clowns...or Jon Bon Jovi) were actually just shadows. Light shining down on objects in my room and casting shadows. The odd thing was that the light forming the shadows that scared the hell out of me came from the hallway light that my mom left on for me. Funny how that works out. Irony, yes? Yes.

Well... I'm in the dark again. I feel like a six year old, laying in bed alone, scared to death of the light casting shadows on ordinary objects. 32-years-old going on six.

I'm not used to it. I don't like it. I don't like uncertainty. I don't like being scared. I'm a grown woman, right? I'm thirty two years old.

I'm in a dark place. And I'm too scared to ask someone to turn the light on.

4 comments:

Medic61 said...

This post made me so sad, probably because I know where you're coming from, and I can relate all too well.

I'm here if you ever need me...duh.

Bernice said...

I can easily say I have been there. Even just 'saying out loud' on your blog is a big step. I'm new to this blogging world, but email me if you want to chat.

Ambulance Driver said...

Need to talk? Drop me an e-mail.

NannyOgg said...

{{{ HUGS }}} , chocolate, green tea, and ice cream, all coming your way!

Karen