The scared scar

When I was about 10 years old I was changed forever. It wasn't because I started to notice boys a little more or because I realized I was faster than most of them. It was because I was afraid. And it changed me for good.

I was in my room on San Roque with my little Sister Megan. Who knows what we were doing, probably arguing over cleaning our room or making up stories on a tape recorder. Suddenly there was a tap on the window. I vividly remember peering out into the dark night and seeing a horribly scary face staring back at me. It gives me chills now. He lunged at the window and ran away upon our screams of terror. I dont think anyone within a miles radius did not hear us. My Dad was in our rooms before I got my first breath and out the front door upon my 5th. I remember standing there with my Mom, unable to control my badly shaking body.

Long story short it ended up the terrifying face was a masked neighbor intending on the window of my older Sister. A good scare would be fun right? It turned into the nightmare I relived for years both awake and asleep. Knowing it was a prank gone wrong made absolutely no difference to a traumatized 10 year old. And that was when it all started.

I became afraid of everything. The fact that someone was watching me in the night never went away. All windows became covered after dusk, bathroom floors became my bed in the middle of the night, it would be years before I could sleep in my own twin bed or before I could go outside at night. I use to love scary movies. Strange I know. But it made me feel better, being afraid for a justifiable reason. If I awoke at night, scared from a bad dream, I would scream to get my Dad to come in and be with me. I was to afraid to get out of my bed and go into their room, it was like I was paralyzed. My Parents felt helpless. My siblings were seriously annoyed and unsympathetic. Normal functioning had a new standard.

I look back at that poor girl and my heart yearns to tell her she'd be okay. To not waste years on being afraid. I wish she'd have gotten help. It was that bad. It is so sad.

To this day I have a different normal when it comes to the dark and windows. The thoughts are always there. That scared little girl is still inside. I have gotten use to it though. Its the only way I know. Closed shutters and blinds, an over cautious sense, a highly over-exaggerated imagination. As a young adult, with mostly male friends who liked to play tricks, I issued a harsh warning never to scare me. Everyone close to me knew there was aline never to cross. I think I was too close to the looney bin and they didn't want to see me thrown in.

Night and I are not friends. I do not frequent it and I don't welcome it's arrival. Late nights and over-night travels for my Husband? I married someone who I knew it wouldn't be an issue with. Its why I said yes to a Dog. I am a little bit crazy. I know this. I've been working through it for 20 years.

This all come back in full effect when one of my kids feels afraid. Luke had such a hard time going to bed tonight. Who would have thought Jumanji could have done it? Evidently the part where the little boy gets sucked into the game can not leave his thoughts. It scared him terribly. And he can't sleep.

So I lay with him till he drifts off. I let him go into his Sisters bed when he wakes up again. And into mine when he's up for the third time. I have his Dad give him extra snuggles and to hold him tight. And if it happens 5 more times tonight and I get no sleep? I dont care. I will lay with him all night if I need to. Because I know. And its awful. And I pray he gets over each scare without a scar.