So, I have this problem. I think it’s kind of a normal-ish problem. I have an incredible fear of being alone at night, aka in the dark, aka monophobia.

It all started when I was little and my dad started working nights. I would literally get so freaked out by the tiniest of noises that I would long jump off of my bed and across my room and continue this madness until I arrived in my mom’s bed. She knew I hated the dark and most of all being alone in it.

As I got older, my fear remained and when my parent’s would be gone I would pretty much lock myself in my room with all of my animals (2 dogs and a cat at the time) and barricade the door with my desk chair. Apparently it is an extremely effective strategy because I am still alive and well.

Well, sadly this fear has stayed with me as an adult and sadly the hubby takes a trip for work every now and again. I have to admit my fear has changed a tad. I am a little braver. I think it’s mostly because I have Lo with me and I am pretty certain she will keep me safe from all the bad guys out there. My fear has also changed because instead of barricading the door with a desk chair, I barricade the door with a children’s high chair. (For those of you wondering, I don’t do this to keep the intruders out, I do this so I hear them come in!)

Of course, the tiniest of noises still freak me out and I swear when I blink I can see someone standing there. I honestly think that being a mom might actually make things worse. For instance, now when I jump off of my bed I usually land on some sharp toy that hurls me onto the floor, which is obviously what I am trying to avoid.

The other night I had brought Lo home a balloon and after a few days it started to loose helium so it was a bit lower to the ground. Well, of course, all the lights are out so I am walking by my bedroom door to get more water and see this head staring at me. I am pretty sure my heart actually stopped beating for a moment, that is until I charged after the head fully ready to hurl my water at this intruder. Of course I did and then I slipped on some damn bubble wrap, which scared me even more. And then, of course, all the noises woke up my Lo.

Yes, monophobia is worse as a mother, now I am sure.


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