My Childhood Fears: Part 1

I’m having an imagination within an imagination, in efforts to understand where it all stemmed from. Level one finds me in a psychiatrist’s office, lying on a cream leather suede couch. He tells me to relax and think of a happy place like the ocean or the channel on TV that never gets clear so its jus a bunch of grey miscoloured scribbles. I chose the latter. He tells me, we’re going on a journey into my past; I open up my mind and imagine myself as a 6 year old (now I’m in level 2 . . . see where I’m going with this? It’s like diet inception because I’m not asleep).

It’s passed my bed time, and I’m trying to rush my brain to engage the dream sequence. Countless repositioning occurring with every cricket chirp, as the moon light seems to make the room annoyingly bright. For some reason, I’m still quite alert. Soon, I begin to drift into that fine tuned harmony of comfort, sleep and rest . . . but I’m suddenly re-awoken by a subtle thud. I lift my head and gaze straight into the direction I assume the disturbance came from . . . the closet.

My irrational fear of monsters in the closet had just been seeded, and little did I know what kind of tree it would grow into. Just as the tension started to grow, as my the boy Thosh, version 6.3 was waiting for another peculiar sound to emit from the wooden enclosure that housed my clothes, the psychiatrist gave me “the kick” by snapping his fingers, which was in synch with my phone ringing in the real world . . . and thus, I was back to consciousness, without finishing my imaginary session with the mind doctor. At least he didn’t take down my billing details (and even if he did, they would be imaginary, muhahahaha).

Ever since I was young, I feared monsters in my closet. Then suddenly in the 21^st century, all these people where coming out of the closet, and I started to wonder whether it was them I was actually fearing. Maybe I had a certain phobia towards closet dwellers and exiters.Nothing too serious though. I'm fine with them being whatever and wherever just as long as a certain radius of my proximity isn't breached.

It's not really a fear, but more of a "dumb-founded head-scratching wonder as to why scary fictional creatures from my childhood took such a form in the real world when I got older" kind of thing. I don't understand the colour, the super-powers in lifestyle improvement, and competition with puppies for adoration. And just to be clear, I'm fine with not understanding. 

I remain sad that some of my more intelligent humor goes to waste because of a simple name-share agreement. Like when I tell an idiot that, "just knowing we're in the same genus makes me embarrassed to call myself homo"