May 30th, 2013

Phoebe in Wonderland

American Horror Story

I just finished watching both seasons of American Horror Story. And the difference between the two seasons, for me, was incredible. The first season was mostly just a fascinating story for me; aside from a few startling moments and having to hide my face because of blood or needles, the show wasn't scary to me. Ghosts just don't scare me, even the ghosts in that house, which had the unusual ability to manifest physically enough to kill and/or have sex with mortals.

The second season, however. *Shudders* Briarcliff Asylum was scary enough as it was without the other stuff. Lana being committed against her will under the excuse of "curing" her homosexuality was scary as well. The creatures that Dr. What's-his-face was making from humans were scary too, mostly from the thought of what it would be like to be turned into one of them.

But by far the scariest thing in the second season was Bloody Face/Oliver Thredson. The scenes where Lana was his captive and Wendy had been murdered were the worst. I went through the whole first season in one sitting. I had to limit myself to a few episodes a night for the second, I would get so shaky from fear. And I would have to watch something lighter, like a comedy, after the fact to cut down on the risk of bad dreams.

Of course, I don't have what I would consider nightmares often, because my definition of a nightmare is a dream that either scares me while I'm dreaming it, or terrifies me when I wake up. But I do have a lot of dreams that others would consider nightmares, which I don't because they don't scare me. And that's just from going about my ordinary day! With nightmare fuel like American Horror Story, I could have had some real doozies. I didn't, but it was a possibility.

I think the Bloody Face stuff scared me so much because, well... monsters and ghosts don't scare me. I've always been fascinated by monsters and even like shifting mentally into the headspace of scary creatures. And ghosts can't hurt people, so they don't frighten me. Besides which, the only ghost I've ever met basically ran screaming from the room at the sight of me for some reason.

Serial killers, on the other hand, are real. They're rare, and the odds of being killed by one are high against, but it does happen. And asylums are real, too. Even ones almost as bad as Briarcliff, or even worse (like the infamous Bedlam Asylum) have existed and may still exist somewhere. Being committed against one's will, even if one is not insane, really happens. So naturally, the things I knew could really happen, even if they were unlikely, scared me the most.

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Annoying problem

I have this problem, when walking sometimes. The thing is, sometimes when I walk - especially if I'm not paying attention to my walking and not in a hurry, I get into a rhythm by which I can walk for miles and miles without a problem. But there are other times when I lose the rhythm and even walking a few blocks makes the whole bottom section of my legs sore. And the worst part is, I don't know for sure what causes it, and I don't know what to do when it starts. And once it starts, it's hard to stop. Also, if it gets bad enough, just standing up hurts like hell. And if it's bad enough, my legs continue to ache after sitting down.

I've noticed it happens more frequently when I'm in a hurry, but not always. It happens more frequently when I'm paying conscious attention to the process of walking, but other times that doesn't do it. Sometimes, walking with a slight back-and-forth rocking motion eases the pain and can even stop the pain; but other times, that doesn't work.

I'm starting to wonder if I should mention this to my doctor, maybe she can at least figure out a possible explanation for it. About the only thing I know for sure about it is that I never had this problem before Portland, and I didn't start having the problem until after the first time I sprained my ankle. (And it's happened a few times since then.) I don't know if there's a connection there or not, but it's too... well, too something to dismiss as coincidence.

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