It always goes back to fear

Last night I slept beautifully with my windows cracked and ceiling fan a spinning. It was my first night in my new bedroom without it feeling like sleeping in a refrigerator. Yep, I had the A/C off twas a beautiful night. That humming white noise was replaced with the crickets and cicadas or locusts or that bug that makes that incessant hard to describe noise. It was peaceful.

What wasn't nice about it was how I got up shortly after turning out the lights to lower the windows to that point below the child safety locks and ram them back up again against said locks. This allowed for the window to remain only open about two inches forfeiting any hope my beautiful flowing curtains had of dancing that night. They lay flat bulging no more than an inch or two against the slight opening and remained that way.

Upon laying down the first time, I had images of burglars or rapists climbing onto the roof and breaking into my bedroom. I had visions of being startled awake and defenseless of the scary scarred white man in gloves who would no doubt bash my skull in with a baseball bat. Yes, this is why I lowered the windows. (Yep, I fear the white man. I said it.)

Fear. It's imbedded in me and most others. Kirk touched on this topic today when discussing the "thwarted" airplane attacks. I said I'm afraid. His advice. "Don't be."

I thought about that. Pretty shitty advice if you ask me. I mean, it's great advice, but easier said than done. This is coming from a girl who never even considered the fact that the scary noise and motion light trigger that scared her half to death could be a family of raccoons and who begged (near tears) her boyfriend not to go investigate because she had visions of him being shot in the chest by some early start burglar.

It was a family of raccoons and at least Mike investigated despite my crazy antics.

I can defend myself and say it's not so bad. I mean, afterall, I leave the living room windows open. There's a straight drop to the ground from those windows with nothing to grab onto. A thirty foot ladder would look suspicious leaning against the house.

It's bad. I know it's bad. I wanted to sleep with my windows all the way open last night but I won't even if Mike is home. Too many innocent and unsuspecting people get killed. I value my life too much now and I won't fall victim to some asshole rapist/murderer for the desire to sleep with my windows open.

I hate myself for what I'm saying but I just know it's true. I'd do it if the windows had alarms.

I think I may be worse off than some because my step dad was addicted to America's Most Wanted and A Current Affair and Unsolved Mysteries. I hated those shows but yet I couldn't turn away. I wish my mom wouldn't let me watch them. This was the age when a kid didn't have much else to do but sit and watch tv with their parents. Plus I may have wanted attention and maybe I even liked the shows. Who knows. But I watched them night after night and the effects were strong, immediate, and very long-lasting. The only part of that fear casted on me by those shows and the news that ever faded was my fear of being kidnapped. I almost gave mom a nervous breakdown with that one. That's a story for another day.

I'm sure it will resurface the day I become a momma.....and ten fold.

Thank you media, tv, government and fucking asshole chain mail sending mo'fos for my fear of leaving my windows open, flying, skyscrapers, rollercoasters (loved them when I was small), scary looking men in turbans and long robes, unmarked vans, unmarked police cars on deserted streets, people who ask me for help in parking lots, running at night, parks, woods, etc at night and MY OWN FUCKING SHADOW! Thank you, America!!!

"Don't be." hahahaha