The Safety Dance

I loved horror once upon a time. I loved the suspense of well written horror. I love the jumps and shocks of scary movies. I've been known to indulge in some pretty gross movie-wise stuff with my birthday twin Nikki so I can say that I definitely have loved some horror.

Time has changed that for me and I've addressed it before, I'm sure, but I just got a shaking reminder of how weak I am in front of FEAR and DANGER when presented well.

I just finished Stephen King's REVIVAL and I can say with a certainty that I had a strong idea of what the horror was going to be very early in the book. It was so interesting to read, the characters painted in that east coast charm of his (even those not from the east coast) that I couldn't stop. I wanted to know for sure HOW it unfolded, what it manifested into.

Except that I forgot one important little detail. I can't feel unsafe. If something moves me to the place where my mind can feel unsafe I simply can't handle it. Maybe it's motherhood. Maybe it's mortality finally settling in. But I know one thing for certain, I have to be in control and I have to be safe and know everyone I love is safe.

I couldn't watch Walking Dead because not only did I cry during all three episodes I watched, but because it evoked in me an all encompassing dread feeling of NOWHERE IS SAFE. That shit takes place in Atlanta and I'm in Atlanta and oh hell no I can't have that.

This book rolled me into a similar but maybe more all encompassing dread. Painting a picture of inescapable fate, one that waits for us all, I found myself getting more and more drawn in to the words. The pictures he painted, the aberrations of reality loomed on the page sharply and I got everything he meant.

And then I realized I am never, ever going to fucking sleep tonight.

My heart is pounding still a bit, thinking on it too much.

I hate to think I'm too much of a wuss to read one of my favorites but maybe it's come to that. I can't stand that idea, I love King. I want more and more of The Dark Tower. I love his work. But man, I'm not sure I'm going to sleep again, not even in the arms of the Dragon.

IT WAS PHANTASM SCARY. And that's all Generation X needs to know.

The Safety Dance

I loved horror once upon a time. I loved the suspense of well written horror. I love the jumps and shocks of scary movies. I've been known to indulge in some pretty gross movie-wise stuff with my birthday twin Nikki so I can say that I definitely have loved some horror.

Time has changed that for me and I've addressed it before, I'm sure, but I just got a shaking reminder of how weak I am in front of FEAR and DANGER when presented well.

I just finished Stephen King's REVIVAL and I can say with a certainty that I had a strong idea of what the horror was going to be very early in the book. It was so interesting to read, the characters painted in that east coast charm of his (even those not from the east coast) that I couldn't stop. I wanted to know for sure HOW it unfolded, what it manifested into.

Except that I forgot one important little detail. I can't feel unsafe. If something moves me to the place where my mind can feel unsafe I simply can't handle it. Maybe it's motherhood. Maybe it's mortality finally settling in. But I know one thing for certain, I have to be in control and I have to be safe and know everyone I love is safe.

I couldn't watch Walking Dead because not only did I cry during all three episodes I watched, but because it evoked in me an all encompassing dread feeling of NOWHERE IS SAFE. That shit takes place in Atlanta and I'm in Atlanta and oh hell no I can't have that.

This book rolled me into a similar but maybe more all encompassing dread. Painting a picture of inescapable fate, one that waits for us all, I found myself getting more and more drawn in to the words. The pictures he painted, the aberrations of reality loomed on the page sharply and I got everything he meant.

And then I realized I am never, ever going to fucking sleep tonight.

My heart is pounding still a bit, thinking on it too much.

I hate to think I'm too much of a wuss to read one of my favorites but maybe it's come to that. I can't stand that idea, I love King. I want more and more of The Dark Tower. I love his work. But man, I'm not sure I'm going to sleep again, not even in the arms of the Dragon.

IT WAS PHANTASM SCARY. And that's all Generation X needs to know.

Having Kids Killed Horror Movies For Me

I loved horror movies back in my youth. I saw them in 3D. I wasn't afraid of Freddie or Jason or Michael Myers. I was jaded, I was invincible and immortal. I was young.

My empathy levels increased when I became a mom, and I have to admit they've grown worse/better/stronger every year. I have trouble suspending my disbelief. It's not just a girl gutted and strung up in a tree, it's someones child. That is without fail the way my mind works now, every time.
"That's someones child."

I lost the ability to look at death as entertainment somewhere along the way, at least horror death. I can still weep over Steel Magnolias as I did with two friends last night. (Well two of use cried and the third wondered why). But Shelby wasn't gutted and draped over a carport. Her death was tragic but it wasn't horror.

I tried to start watching The Walking Dead recently, on my lunch hour. I should've known, in the first few minutes *SPOILERS STOP READING RIGHT NOW* when they shoot the little blonde zombie girl in the head, that this was NOT for me. Tears running down my face at lunch wasn't how I want to spend my lunch time.

I tried a few more episodes, urged on, "It gets better", "Don't worry you won't mind the zombies after a while" and various other things.

But I did mind them. I minded the really over the top gore, which was too graphic for my taste and didn't really speak to any one's great skill at special effects so I didn't see the point. HEY LOOK GUTS. YAY. Not really "lunch time" fare, however. Also, it made me sad. It made me nervous and not in an endorphin rush way. It made me feel unsafe. Conceptually, Walking Dead was proposing a world where being alive meant you now existed on a giant hunting ground called Earth - and you were the game.

After I got to the 4th episode, I found that I couldn't sleep that night. My tension was so bad, I couldn't relax. When I did nod off it was into the world of Atlanta over run by Walkers and no where was safe. My children weren't safe. Nothing was safe. I couldn't relax I couldn't sleep.

I know it's lame, I should know fantasy from reality but I don't know if I want to feel comfortable with that kind of fear and terror. Do I want to be ok with looking horror right in the face and not flinching? To be numb to it? Is it really ok to desensitize myself to that much violence and gore? I'm not sure. I just know it impacted me a lot. I love Tarantino - so what's the difference? I guess because I didn't get a 30 second close up of Marvin's brains all over the back seat. Maybe that's the difference.

My other thought is, and it's just a thought, but as they say in Game of Thrones "The Night Is Dark and Full of Terrors" is true. It's actually really true, in real life.

I don't need made up horror. If I want to dive into horror, I'll just watch the damn evening news.

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Having Kids Killed Horror Movies For Me

I loved horror movies back in my youth. I saw them in 3D. I wasn't afraid of Freddie or Jason or Michael Myers. I was jaded, I was invincible and immortal. I was young.

My empathy levels increased when I became a mom, and I have to admit they've grown worse/better/stronger every year. I have trouble suspending my disbelief. It's not just a girl gutted and strung up in a tree, it's someones child. That is without fail the way my mind works now, every time.
"That's someones child."

I lost the ability to look at death as entertainment somewhere along the way, at least horror death. I can still weep over Steel Magnolias as I did with two friends last night. (Well two of use cried and the third wondered why). But Shelby wasn't gutted and draped over a carport. Her death was tragic but it wasn't horror.

I tried to start watching The Walking Dead recently, on my lunch hour. I should've known, in the first few minutes *SPOILERS STOP READING RIGHT NOW* when they shoot the little blonde zombie girl in the head, that this was NOT for me. Tears running down my face at lunch wasn't how I want to spend my lunch time.

I tried a few more episodes, urged on, "It gets better", "Don't worry you won't mind the zombies after a while" and various other things.

But I did mind them. I minded the really over the top gore, which was too graphic for my taste and didn't really speak to any one's great skill at special effects so I didn't see the point. HEY LOOK GUTS. YAY. Not really "lunch time" fare, however. Also, it made me sad. It made me nervous and not in an endorphin rush way. It made me feel unsafe. Conceptually, Walking Dead was proposing a world where being alive meant you now existed on a giant hunting ground called Earth - and you were the game.

After I got to the 4th episode, I found that I couldn't sleep that night. My tension was so bad, I couldn't relax. When I did nod off it was into the world of Atlanta over run by Walkers and no where was safe. My children weren't safe. Nothing was safe. I couldn't relax I couldn't sleep.

I know it's lame, I should know fantasy from reality but I don't know if I want to feel comfortable with that kind of fear and terror. Do I want to be ok with looking horror right in the face and not flinching? To be numb to it? Is it really ok to desensitize myself to that much violence and gore? I'm not sure. I just know it impacted me a lot. I love Tarantino - so what's the difference? I guess because I didn't get a 30 second close up of Marvin's brains all over the back seat. Maybe that's the difference.

My other thought is, and it's just a thought, but as they say in Game of Thrones "The Night Is Dark and Full of Terrors" is true. It's actually really true, in real life.

I don't need made up horror. If I want to dive into horror, I'll just watch the damn evening news.

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BUT WHAT IS IT MOM?

Just a reminder that when you leave Atlanta.......you're in GEORGIA.

Out to dinner last night in a rather rural area.......quite far from home to be exact.

The big boy had to use the restroom so we went together to the ladies, and when we exited the stall and turned the corner to wash his hand he screamed "AAAAA! WHAT IS THAT?"

I took a look. "Ummm, it's a decoration."

"But what IS IT Mom? It's scary."

"Well.....it's supposed to be......pretty......."

He shook his head. "Scary things aren't pretty, Mom."

No. No they aren't.

So we took a pic, so you would believe us.

BUT WHAT IS IT MOM?

Just a reminder that when you leave Atlanta.......you're in GEORGIA.

Out to dinner last night in a rather rural area.......quite far from home to be exact.

The big boy had to use the restroom so we went together to the ladies, and when we exited the stall and turned the corner to wash his hand he screamed "AAAAA! WHAT IS THAT?"

I took a look. "Ummm, it's a decoration."

"But what IS IT Mom? It's scary."

"Well.....it's supposed to be......pretty......."

He shook his head. "Scary things aren't pretty, Mom."

No. No they aren't.

So we took a pic, so you would believe us.