Were the monsters ever your friends?

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Most children have a fear of the invisible monster under the bed or in the closet. They don't actually "know" that the monster is there, as far as I can tell, they just fear that something MIGHT be there.

But when I was a kid, I really believed that I could talk to the monster under my bed. He wasn't scary, he was friendly. I know now that the monster was in my imagination, but back then I really believed it.

Were you ever friends with the monster under the bed?

I never believed there were monsters in my closet or under my bed despite hearing the story about them. I was just happy I didn't have any under mine or in my closet like the character did in the book.

At one point I did recognise an "eerie silenceness" from my bedroom closet, that there may be things there that might want to pop out. Some of them were completely harmless to me and then there were ones which had an eerie likeness to Bob Saget.

As a kid there were enough wild animals, and strange neighbors for me to not believe in invisible monsters. After growing up with so many real monsters around, I don't fear much. If there really was a monster in my closet or under my bed, and it was friendly, I would have liked that.

I DID have an active imagination in that a shadow or occlusion COULD be imagined as someone or something that was a concern. The only friends I had, that could be considered monsters by anyone, were ones that were purely in my imagination(not merely an interpretation or delusion).

I always checked. In fact, I decided early on that I would rather be devoured by a monster than live in fear of one that wasn't there. Oddly, I was always disappointed that I couldn't find one to gobble me up. It would have made me quite happy. After all, if there could be invisible monsters, which were obviously objects of fantasy generated by my surely overactive imagination, then there could be ghosts, which fall into exactly the same category. If I could be a ghost, then I wouldn't have to be bothered so much by the banal matters of the living. Even though I am atheistical (now, at least) in the most intellectually hackneyed and metaphysically vapid manner that one can be atheistical (always having been emphatically more "humanist" than "secular"), a small part of my mind is still holding out for some conveniently hungry monster to come send me into an eternity of untroubled, monkish ghosthood. Even "good" sex is just as banal, dull, insipid, stupid, wasteful, mind-numbing, and utterly overrated as I always thought it would be (I would have made an annoying Christian), and even so it intrudes rudely and unpleasantly into significantly more entertaining thoughts. In fact, I have discovered very little to like about the physical aspects of my existence even though good hygeine and adequate nutrition have helped make it more comfortable (therefore easier to ignore), and I feel quite a bit of pity for those who seem to be limited to it. The real problem with monsters under the bed, then, is that they always stand you up.

I used to believe there were snakes all over the floor, trying to climb into my bed. I would scream and my dad would come in and turn on the lights.

When I was little the enterance to our cellar was in the floor of my closet. I always half expected something to pop out of there. But I figured that if I was completely covered by my blankets, nothing could hurt me. Not even my mom, who was much scarier.

This is interesting. It seems that most of you guys were scared of the monsters, like children normally are. I am strange in that way. I am scared of school, but I was never scared of the monsters. That's where my new signature came from - "I go where humans fear to tread, but I fear that what humans do."

Nononono, that's nothing like my fear that one day I was going to open the lid to some pot and find cockroaches pouring out of the bloody thing. Fortunately, I was well into adulthood before that nightmare came true. By then, I had realized that most of them were just harmless wood/water bugs, not the horrible, disease-bearing goonies I'd been taught about. One could crawl across my cheek, and I would just calmly brush the thing away with my finger. It was literally the realistic concern about the chance of contracting a body-rotting disease that caused me to worry about the things at all. My parents did once have an infestation of the potentially disease-bearing variety, but I was sheltered from that ordeal.

I have never been frightened of snakes, though. I have always known better than to reach into dark spaces where snakes might be, but I am also tedious about rooting them out on the chance that there are any there. It is ridiculous to leave things to chance.

I put to you that perhaps ... the monsters live IN your school? (I know, they lived in mine, and they were the real kind, and very dangerous. they sometimes ask about me at the school reunions I never go to, apparently). Nothing in a mere closet or under a slightly dusty bed held any fear for me when I had the real monsters at school to contend with...

I was never afraid of the monsters under the bed but the scary people coming out of the teleivsion? Whole other story. I was morbidly fascinated by shows like Rescue 911 and Unsolved Mysteries at a young age. Our tv was in our basement and I was convinced that if I went down there after dark all of the escaped convicts and injured people would come after me. Not to mention Robert Stack (host of UM- scariest voice ever).

Yes, and they were in my head, rather than under the bed.

Perhaps...another strange thing for me is that even the word "monster" didn't mean something scary.

Meh. I use to hear a voice(who I called, 'The Master') and hallucinate a lot when I was younger anyway. Monsters seemed more like plush toys than anything, lol.
EMZ=]