Irrational Fear of Horror Movies

I used to be terrified to walk down the horror movie aisle at Blockbuster video. This may come as a surprise to those who know me as a horror movie obsessive, but it’s true. Unfortunately, the sports bloopers tapes shared space with the horror films, so there were times that I couldn’t avoid the section altogether. I’d find any excuse to avert my eyes, but it didn’t work. I’m still mildly scarred by the box cover of The Dead Next Door and Night of the Demons. This fear was responsible for one of my most terrifying dreams in which my bedroom was stocked with horror movies (I definitely remember Hellraiser being among the collection, and as my eyes pan across them from across the room, I see a man at the end of the row who turns around and looks at me. His face oozing and dripping flesh and I can see the exposed bone. It’s one of two times in my life that I woke up in the cliché, “sit straight up panting and sweating” manner that is so often depicted in TV and movies. Fortunately, I later discovered that I was not the only one afraid of the horror section.
A few years after I got over my fear of horror movies and had a few of the classics under my belt, I’d still freak myself out at night trying to sleep. I convinced myself that the central air in my room sounded exactly like the breathing heard from Michael Myers in Halloween. This fear is responsible for why I don’t yell at characters for being stupid when going off alone because I did all sorts of solo investigating into dark corners of my room (and house, in general). The mind would rather believe it’s nothing than accept that there is a killer in the house.
Probably the most ridiculous fear regarding horror movies is that what you saw in the movie is going to happen to you, but only after you see the movie. It’s almost absurd how irrational this fear is. Millions of people watch these movies and only a very few ended up getting hacked to death or haunted in the ensuing hours, and generally due to forces unrelated to the movie. While this hasn’t happened to me in years, I’m embarrassed to admit that years is actually three years and doubly embarrassed to admit that the culprit was pretty terrible The Grudge 2: Grudgier (subtitle may or may not be accurate). If there is one the Grudge movies do well, though, is creating creepy as hell ghosts. The day after I saw the movie, my job took me to upstate New York where I was alone in a hotel room. The unfamiliarity of the situation and bizarre sounds of the room freaked me out. I got about four hours of sleep max that night.

Fortunately, horror movies don’t really get under my skin anymore. I’ve probably watched more in the past three years than the rest of my life combined. Maybe I’m just desensitized or I’ve gotten used to the conventions. It’s probably more related to my increased knowledge in how movies are made that lessons the impact. There is still one lingering fright in my life. About once a month, I have a dream that always has different subject matter, but features a familiar character: Freddy Krueger. They never fail to scare me and I always have trouble going back to sleep, but I take consolation that since I haven’t woken up dead yet, either it is just a dream or Freddy isn’t interested in killing me. I can live with either.