NIGHT THEN DAY

Used to be terrified, of the night that is. Although my parents' bedroom, located steps away, offered sanctuary, I'd imagine the usual childhood scares--ghosts, monsters and creepy crawlies. Unfortunately I'd soon see the latter terror really did exist. When I was seven, my family moved into an old, 1833, home and it seemed every insect imaginable could get through the porous wood floors and oak beams. The worst, earwigs, kept me awake for many summer nights dreading the aptly-named insect would lay eggs in my ears.

Earwig

And with numerous wooden shutters against stone outer walls, brown bats happily settled in and ventured into my room--yes, most of the time mine (Go figure!). I'd scream, then as I grew up, called for my father who would come to the rescue, prepared with his highly strung tennis racket! He would try and often succeed in nudging the critters outside, through an open window. But when faced with a stubborn, aggressive, potentially rabies-carrying opponent the furry pest would meet its match. Eventually, I became the bat remover when my father was away for work, sans the tennis racket (I used a broom). That new role only came due to years of bat aversion therapy, i.e. so many visits from the flying mammals led to a respectful understanding.*

Several years later, one horrible evening, I noticed an heirloom given to me by a relative had disappeared. My parents were traveling overseas, and I chose not to face the inevitable. Not a recommended action. That someone had stolen an item from our home didn't register. I refused to believe the heirloom, a silver coffee set given to me by a relative, and other more inconspicuous items we later learned, had been taken. Once my parents returned home and the police dusted for prints the nightmare didn't end. The ensuing nights continued to frighten me. I could barely get to sleep or stay asleep.

A month passed when the authorities found the culprit: a neighbor who cleaned our home regularly, whom my parents trusted.Years after the theft every bang, creak or jolt emanating from old, steam radiators would awaken me, but I wouldn't react by calling for help. I decided I had to face my night demons. I didn't succeed. My attempts--night lights, soothing music, reading, etc.--couldn't resolve underlying fears. I've been a light sleeper since.

Then, maturity and the onset of new multimedia, communication devices brought an about-face. Being bombarded with news images on TV, the Internet, and so on have kept me on full alert, during the day. More importantly, through my role as a writer/blogger I have learned to confront new-found fears that have replaced the old. Anxiety about current events too many to mention, please read my earlier blogs, has kept me motivated to write using multiple forms: blogs, short stories, Tweets, etc. My books, Shadowwater (published last year) and Shadowwater: Dark Sea (the sequel, to be published this Spring) have also helped mollify fears stemming from past events.

With changes and upheavals these last three years, adapting has become crucial to my physical and mental well-being. I wouldn't have survived or adapted without continuing support from friends, depending on my inner strength and tapping my creativity as I tackled serious problems. Rewards have arisen from facing those obstacles. The most unexpected reward: eradicating the demons of the night.


*NOTE: Brown bats are endangered due to a spreading virus called White Nose Syndrome (only dangerous to bats). Brown bats are natural insect exterminators, particularly of mosquitoes.  My father learned that keeping the shutters away from the stone surface and putting a grate over chimney openings kept the bats from hanging around. Please contact your local nature museum or wildlife rescue organization for more information about safely removing and saving these vital creatures.