Dolls

There aren't many things that scare me, but porcelain dolls are definitely one of them.

No offense to whomever donated the lovely dolls; it is not your fault I have issues.

I have a healthy risk awareness of the many forces that can kill me so my heart does race a bit when I venture out into dangerous territory, but that seems different than fear. There might even be times that I choose not to do something because it is risky. Doesn't happen often, but it does happen.

My aversion to dolls seems irrational until I think about it.

Why I hate dolls:

1. One girl told a story at summer camp about waking up in the night and her doll was floating over her face. I'm sure this is a true story and they hold this secret power to show up in random places. I'm also pretty sure if you dispose of them, they will appear in your closet in the darkest corner staring up at you with those creepy eyes.

So, my overactive imagination might have something to do with my great fear.

Fear of dolls is different than rational apprehension. I've seen the power of death up close. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to see how death and destruction can wreak havoc at a moment's notice. I'm not going to say I embrace this death and destruction, but I know it is a regular part of life so I kind of expect it.

But no one expects a floating doll over your face. Except for me.

Dostoevsky had a brilliant quote in The Idiot where a character says, "I don't believe in ghosts, but I know if I ever saw one I would drop dead." I know dolls don't come to life at night and stand staring at me by my bed, but if I ever woke up and a painted, scuffed face was peering over the edge, I would be gone.

2. I have worked hard to overcome my speech impediment, but double l's are still difficult for me. I hate dolls for the same reason I hate squirrels. I have to say it three times before people can figure out what I'm saying.

3. Porcelain dolls embody tragic love to me. They are beautiful and fragile, but not to be played with. They are for display, not life and joy. I know toys don't have feelings. Toy Story also kind of creeped me out, but there is something melancholy about a perfect toy. Especially a perfect toy that ends up in a bin at a garage sale.

I'm only slightly worried they will take their disappoint out on me with a ten inch butcher knife. I never saw Chucky but the previews were enough to scar me for life.

4. I'm not afraid of Barbies. I did play with those until my mom caught me putting them in bed together and I wasn't allowed to watch General Hospital with my grandma anymore. I don't want you to think I'm a blanket doll hater.

5. Oh, I know why I hate them. I did have a set of dolls called the Sunshine Family and they weren't necessarily porcelain but they were fancier than plastic. My brother popped all their eyes out and I still remember finding them with all their hollow holes staring at me. That was scary.

Why I don't hate dolls:

Dolls help me laugh at myself and my fears. I'm not paralyzed by my fear, but they do make my heart skip a little and I can laugh at that. I can laugh that something so irrational can give rise to a quickening pulse and I have to give myself a pep talk to focus.

I do have a Biblical pep talk for when I am terrified. Be strong and courageous.  Nothing can separate me from the love of God. Jesus defeated death, I can deal with dolls.

I also have non-Biblical pep talks that might sound like something you hear at boot camp, but I won't share those.