Thanks alot, now I’ll never get to sleep tonite. I’m just going to be staring at those red digits, waiting for them to change…
I can’t sit on a toilet without checking to see if there’s a snake in there first. Even while going at times I sit there sweating if the toilet makes noises just sure that a snake just slid through my pipes.
I used to not be able to sleep with my hands or feet hanging off the bed but then when I had kids I saw that they almost always have their feet or hands hanging over. So now I make myself leave my hands or feet hanging over so the boogey monster will get me before it gets them.
I can’t sleep if my closet foor is open. I am just sure something is going to sneak in and grab me at night. I go to bed after everyone else in my family and I always make sure the closets are shut.
And I hate sticking my hands down to make sure there’s nothing stuck in the disposal before turning it on. I always stare at the switch the whole time to make sure no one is going to turn it on behind me.
One time I when I was about twelve, I was at a slumber party, and we got off on the whole Mary Worth thing. Then I went upstairs to use the bathroom and I thought, wouldn’t it be fun if…
I screamed and went downstairs holding the side of my face. My friends freaked out completely. It was great.
You girls are scared of a crappy soap opera comic strip? Geeez.
We always called her “Bloody Mary”.
–Tim
I cannot go up a flight of stairs from, say, a dark basement calmly. I try, but I’m hauling ass by like, the third step, tripping all over myself like the bimbos in slasher flicks that I hate.
I can’t lay awake in the dark at night without freaking out. I either have to keep my eyes shut and think about something else, or turn on the tv for some light and noise.
The wierd noises a house makes when no one’s home or moving around.
Ventriliquist dummies. Good god, those things are hideous. They look like they’re about to get these demonic expressions any second and come after you with a knife.
I have the most intense and irrational fear of cockroaches. I will not go into the room if I know there is one in there. It doesn’t matter if it’s dead or alive either…one of them flipped over and came at me one time when I thought it was dead. I swear!! ::shivers:: ew…I can see it now…
What I can’t figure out: all these people looking behind doors, car seats, shower curtains etc. because you are afraid the boogeyman or some crazed psycho ready to do a ginsu knife number on you is there…
What would you do if he/she/it was there?
Pee in my pants. Faint. Have a heart attack and die. Probably in that order, too!
Scream out some made up japanese word like “KIWAAAAHH!!!” …sorry I won’t watch anymore subtitled japanese movies from now on…
It’s not that I get creeped out by it, but I don’t like popsicle sticks. If you get a dry one it just sucks the moisture out of my tongue where it touches, and I don’t like that. I went to the doctor once when I was five or six, and the doctor wanted to use a tongue depressor. I told him that if he did, I’d throw up. He said I was just being silly. Well, he put the stick in my mouth and I promptly spewed all over the floor.
There’s not a lot that creeps me out, but one thing is… the It’s a Small World ride at Disneyland. The song, the cuteness… I truly think it is evil!
One of these days I’m going to take a video camera on it and do an Apocalypse Now parody. “Never get out of the boat.” Or start the ride narrating very calmly, and end up screaming by the end of it. That would make me popular with the Minions of the Maus!
I’m with teppei about being the last one awake. This doesn’t bother me when I’m in my own apartment (I live alone), but when I visit my parents, oy! Their house is set back a little bit from the street, surrounded by a big yard and trees and it’s so dark. Everyone goes to bed and it’s dead quiet… I’m actually relieved when one of my parents ends up having trouble sleeping, because it means someone else is up. Also my brother’s current job has him up at about 4a.m., so hurray!
There are also times when I have to force myself to close my eyes while rinsing my hair or face in the shower. These would be the times when I have reason to believe that there is some evil being crouching outside my bathroom door, and it’s just waiting for the right moment to burst in and kill me.
A friend of mine, was laying on his bed afetr dropping acid. His walls at the time were covered in posters of rock stars. Well, my 6’7" friend was cowering in his bed for the rest of the night after the posters all stuck their heads out and turned to glare at him.
That thought freaks me out.
Sure, you can have it! 
Just the thought of little wooden slivers getting stuck in their tongue gives me the heebie-jeebies. Eewwwwww. . . .
Another irrational fear -
Moths. I hate all moths but the worst are miller moths and especially gypsy moths that are the size of my hand!!! Oh gawd! :::shiver:::
I would rather be locked in a room with Ted Bundy (if he were alive) than locked in a room with a big, hairy moth flying around my head with its legs dangling down trying to get caught in my hair. (Writing that last sentence actually raised the hairs on my arms and neck.)
I ALWAYS look under the covers before I go to bed. I don’t want to feel one crawling on my bare legs with its fat little body and hair legs. I have never actually found one under my covers, but I ain’t taking any chances.
:rolleyes: Oh, okay. I won’t hid under your covers.
There is something very disturbing about tv stations that have signed off for the night. Like when you fall asleep in front of the t.v. and wake up to white noise and a fuzzy screen. Brrr!
I just know that evil forces hijack the unused frequency and use it as a medium to transmit its…well, you know, its * evilness. *
The five gallon drum of chunky peanut butter in the middle of the restroom of a bakery I visited today.
THAT creeps me out. I can sense the nightmares already. How on Earth did you come up with that? It is absolutely vile!
This sounds like my friend, except she smoked pot as opposed to dropping acid. And she wasn’t scared of posters, but she made the mistake of watching that horribly scary movie, “Toy Story”, so those terrifying dolls gave her a complex.
[sub]To be fair, she wasn’t into smoking pot, and this may have been the one and only time. Her boyfriend was pressuring her to do it.[/sub]
Seems like most everybody who has these little episodic terror attacks imagines either a maniac with a knife or some unspeakable horror with claws and sharp teeth. I wonder what it is about being cut or *torn apart * that makes it more horrifying than any other type of killing.
Nobody here has mentioned a gun-wielding maniac.
I guess it just has to do with the intimacy of attack that knives necessitate. The baddies have to get right up next to you to do you in.
I used to have the problem with the monster living under the stairs when I was a kid. Of course, my brother and I were constantly messing with each other by running ahead, shutting off the basement lights and slamming the cellar door shut, throwing everything into the pitch black. We had those types of steps that had no risers, just treads, so the lurking beast below would have no trouble snatching the ankles of a little boy scrambling up in the dark.
I don’t really have any irrational fears these days, although I can still work myself up by going downstairs and letting my imagination go. Then, just as I’m starting to creep myself out, I force myself to walk up the steps super slowly, listening to every little click and creak of the steps and the various small sounds of the basement. By the time I get to the top of the stairs, my heart is racing and I get that super-body chill that seems so satisfying.
Hand hanging off the edge of the bed? Hmm…that makes me remember. This only happened once (fortunately).
One evening I was lying on the couch reading a book. Fell asleep with the light on. My arm also fell asleep (benumbed) because of the way I was lying on it. I happened to wake up at the exact same moment my arm slipped off the edge of the couch and I saw it flop onto the floor. But I only saw it. There was no feeling in my arm, so I couldn’t feel it hitting the floor. The psychological effect was that the arm was no longer attached to my body, but had been dismembered. That was really, really creepy.