From Sensitive Child To Horror Fanatic: My Unexpected Love For The Genre

It all started with a lie, a harmless bending of the truth. While many reminisce about the love they had for a pet, a friend, a family member or even a complete stranger who bumped into them at just the right moment, I am talking about something different. I’m talking about how a scared and sensitive child fell in love with the horror genre.

THE INVISIBLE CHILD

In March of 1982, I came kicking and screaming into the world. This was thanks to a Mother with Narcissistic Personality Disorder and her workaholic husband, who used his work as a way of escaping the abuse he received at the hands of my mother. I was the youngest of four siblings, the oldest of whom was born with a severe mental handicap.

This meant two things. First, I was born a young carer. There was no meeting or discussion about this. I was forced into the role the moment I was able to do anything more than just dribble. Second, it meant that I was in for a world of abuse that I wouldn’t be able to fully understand until I was older.

Because of my Mother’s manipulative and psychologically damaging behaviour, I was a very sensitive child. I had to spend all of my time at home walking on eggshells for fear of aggressive repercussions. It even got to the point where I felt immense guilt and depression for doing anything that was completely innocent and normal. And all because my Mother could and would lose her temper at the drop of a hat if I did anything she didn’t approve of. This was not limited to but did include laughing at things she didn’t find funny or showing an interest in subjects and hobbies that she had no interest in.

One thing she loved to do was try to mould my interests and tastes by telling abhorrent lies designed to instil fear into me. And that fear reigned supreme over my life and engulfed everything. However, the other thing she liked to do was completely ignore me (sometimes for days on end) and then pick a random moment to decide that I must have done something wrong during this time and punish me for it.

On top of this, my mother was extremely strict about my viewing habits. Sure, every parent should be aware of what their child watches and do what they can to make sure that what they are viewing is appropriate for their age. But my mother took that to a whole new extreme. She even felt that some of the children’s programming that was deemed suitable for my age range was not suitable at all. This meant that at the age of six years old, not only was I not allowed to watch anything that wasn’t made for a two-year-old, but I was scared to because of the lies my mother told me about that particular content.

So, because of my mother’s actions, I was scared of almost everything. And in order to avoid all of the things I feared, I spent more time in my own bedroom than anywhere else. Which probably explains why I am a reclusive person even in my forties. It was the only thing I could do to feel safe as a child. But when I was eight years old, the tides began to turn.

THE LIE THAT LAUNCHED IT ALL

For some reason, as I got older, my mother kept her ironclad grip on what I could and could not see. She didn’t want me to see anything that wasn’t suitable for children of the age of four years old or younger. Although, there was one exception to this rule: 'Doctor Who'.

When I was six years old, my parents took me and my siblings to go shopping for groceries one Saturday night. And as we wandered around the shop, I managed to break free and found myself in the television department. All the latest television sets were displayed and tuned into BBC One. And as I looked up at them, I witnessed Sylvester McCoy being chased up the stairs of a dingy old basement by a Dalek. I was mesmerized and I wanted more.

It was at this point that my mother found me and expressed her disappointment. She made it clear that she wasn’t going to punish me in the shop but she was going to when we got home. She felt that 'Doctor Who' was not suitable for any child of any age. She even went as far as to tell me that I was going to have nightmares for weeks because of what I saw. But to her surprise, I didn’t have one nightmare, and because I wouldn’t shut up about how much I enjoyed the brief clip that I saw, she caved in, and on Saturday nights I sat down to watch the latest episode of 'Doctor Who'.

It had been two years since I had first witnessed the cliff-hanger at the end of the first episode of ‘Remembrance Of The Daleks’. 'Doctor Who' had been off the air for a year with no signs of returning any time soon. However, my father would occasionally take the family to the local video rental store. It wasn’t part of a chain, it was a small business, but they stayed on top of getting in the latest releases.

Upon our family outings to the video store, My father would choose a Thriller that my Mother would convince him not to watch, she would choose a romantic comedy, and I would choose a 'Doctor Who' video. And the 'Doctor Who' videos were kept in the Sci-Fi section of the store, and next to them was the Horror section.

There were a few occasions when my mother caught my eyes wandering over to the horror section of the video store. In those moments, she would march over to me and tell me how those movies were full of awful atrocities and that only criminals and sociopaths were interested in them. ‘You’re not a criminal though, are you?’ she would say. ‘You’re a good boy for Mummy, aren’t you?… AREN’T YOU?’

But I couldn’t help but stare at the horror section in awe. All the videotapes faced forward, surrounded by massive posters advertising the latest instalment of the ‘A Nightmare On Elm Street’ franchise or the forthcoming ‘Exorcist III’. The artwork grabbed my attention, and wouldn’t let go.

One Saturday evening, My father took us to the video rental store. And as he looked through the Thrillers, my mother looked over the comedy section, and I sneaked over to the Horror section. My eyes scanned the covers of the videos until I spotted the cover art for a movie titled ‘The Monster Squad’.

I slid the video box off the shelf and looked over the front and back cover of the video, desperate to see the movie for myself. I knew Mother wouldn’t let me see it, especially as it had been rated ‘15’ by the BBFC. But I had to try. Something inside of me told me that I had to at least ask my mother if I could rent the movie, even if it led to punishment later on.

So, I nervously approached my mother. ‘Let me guess,’ she began, ‘another sodding 'Doctor Who' video’. That’s when I held out the video and sheepishly asked her if I could rent ‘The Monster Squad’.

‘Absolutely not,’ she said. ‘You know you’re not allowed to watch this trash’.

I was heartbroken. If it had been any other day, I would have bowed my head, returned the video to the shelf and picked out one of the many 'Doctor Who' videos that I had rented a hundred times over. But for some reason, I opened my mouth, and when I did, a little lie fell out.

‘But I saw it on TV the other day and I liked it,’ I said.

This took Mother by surprise. If I had already seen it, then what difference would it make banning me from renting it? So after a few seconds of stern looks and contemplation, she agreed that I could rent ‘The Monster Squad'. But there was one condition: If it gave me nightmares, then I was never allowed to rent a video ever again. I was willing to take the risk.

Looking back, ‘The Monster Squad’ was a tame horror movie to begin my exploration of the genre with. But when you’re eight years old and almost everything scares or unsettles you, it’s one Hell of an experience.

As the opening scene progressed, I could feel the butterflies swooping in my stomach. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. But before long, the story settled into a lighter tone, allowing my young mind to be comforted by a false sense of security. And slowly, throughout the run time of the movie, the suspense built up.

I entered the movie hoping that I had not made a huge mistake. And while there were a couple of moments that at the time were hard to stomach, I made it through to the very end. The relief was exhilarating. It was a story that captured my attention, pleased my imagination and left me on a high.

But that’s when it hit me: My Mother had lied to me long before I had lied to her. I remembered all the things she said about Horror movies and the people who watched them.

She had made callous accusations about horror fans being criminals and sociopaths. And yet, I had just watched a horror movie, and I didn’t feel the urge to kill or commit a crime. I just felt… good. I was still playing with my toys and doing the things that all eight-year-old children should be doing. It didn’t scare me, it didn’t upset me, and I didn’t have any nightmares because of it. Which meant that my mother had lost some of her power over me. I still loved things like 'Doctor Who' - Don't even get me started on that love affair - but I had found a new love in my life: The horror genre.

I had a whole new appetite, and I needed to be fed. And so began my lifelong journey into embracing horror into my life.

THE LESSONS I LEARNED FROM THE GENRE

As the years went on, my mother doubled down with her content-viewing policies. To the point where I was no longer allowed to watch some of the 'Doctor Who' stories I had already seen. Even in my teenage years, I was restricted to content that was made for younger children, while all of my friends told me about the great movies and TV shows they had been allowed to watch with their parents.

I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing to monitor your children’s viewing habits. However, what I am saying is that taking a draconian approach to it is. Especially when a majority of the content you are banning them from viewing is stuff they have already seen and handled well or is harmless and something they have an interest in.

My experience of seeing my first horror or horror-themed movie taught me a few things. The first of which was that adults could lie just as much as children. They just have more experience at doing it. But that doesn’t mean that you can't do it and get away with it when necessary. And when you live with a narcissistic parent, and you’re too young to even think about making your own way in life, it is more than a necessity.

The other lesson I learned from watching my first horror movie was that it was okay to be scared. That bravery isn’t an absence of fear. It’s feeling the fear and doing the right thing regardless.

But the most important lesson it taught me was that my Mother’s behaviour wasn’t right. In the movie, I saw a happy family interacting with each other. At no point did the father or mother use extreme aggression towards any of their children because they accidentally spilt a drink or came home five minutes later than their curfew allowed. Yes, the children were reprimanded for misbehaving, but not in the same way that my mother reprimanded me and my siblings. Instead, the characters on screen listened to their children and talked with them while gently displaying their disappointment. They understood that intention mattered and that sometimes children will do something wrong from time to time but it’s important to find out whether it was due to good intentions or bad intentions. That way they can teach their children the appropriate lesson that they need to learn. But there was something else.

My Mother would find a reason to reprimand myself and my siblings for the smallest Indiscretion. And sometimes, it was for indiscretions that never happened. If we laughed when she didn’t want us to, we were punished.

If we expressed not feeling well due to a stomach bug or cold, we were either ignored or punished. Sometimes, we were ignored and then punished. But these things didn’t happen on the screen. The children were allowed to go out and play with their friends after school. Something that I was forbidden to do. They were allowed to have sleepovers. Something else I was forbidden to do. But most importantly, the children were allowed to choose their friends. Once again, something that I was forbidden from doing.

But I also learned that while rules are there for a reason, sometimes you need to be brave and bend the rules.

A LOVE THAT ENDURES

As you can tell, my journey with horror did not end there. As I grew older, I found a multitude of different ways to access the many entries from the history of horror cinema, and I consumed them the same way someone gasps for air after they have been saved from drowning. While I mostly consumed horror movies, I also consumed horror books, comics, and TV shows along with a healthy amount of science fiction and exploitation cinema.

Then the day came when I turned eighteen. While I was still living with my mother and father, I was able to do as I pleased. In fact, for my eighteenth birthday, I went to a tattooist and got my first tattoo. Something that I hid from my mother for a while because she absolutely detested them.

And after I had been inked, I went to my local HMV, a place that I visited frequently to grab the latest releases from bands and artists that I loved listening to. But this time, I went in to legally purchase my first ‘18’ certificate horror movie on VHS. Up until then, I either had to lie about my age to store owners, or borrow them from my friends. But this time, I could not be stopped. Not by the clerk or any authority figure, and especially not my mother.

That movie was ‘Dawn Of The Dead’. Up until that point, the movie was released in a heavily cut edition. But now it was available in its full uncut glory.

Since then, Horror has been a regular part of my diet. So much so that it’s not uncommon for people to tell me that I can’t just watch Horror movies and TV shows all the time. Which I always found to be a weird statement. Firstly, because it’s my life, and if that makes me happy, then I’ll do what the fuck I like. But also because I don’t watch just horror. I enjoy science fiction, Sit-Coms, animation, exploitation cinema, Anime, thrillers, comedies, drama and so much more. It’s just that Horror is my favourite genre, and it always will be. I fell in love with horror from a very young age, and that love has never faded. So much so that it inspires my work in storytelling, and it inspires my music. It’s a part of who I am, and I will never be ashamed of that. I’ll just embrace it instead. Cause no matter how hard anyone tries, my relationship with the horror genre is a love that will never die.

Before I leave you, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking a moment to sign up for my mailing list. Just scroll to the bottom of this page, fill out the form and hit the submit button. If you do, then as a token of my appreciation, you’ll receive a FREE PDF of the first issue of ‘ED GEIN: DEMON HUNTER’. A four-part mini-series that sees the infamous Butcher Of Plainfield tackling his inner demons seven years after his death so that he can return a deranged demon back to Hell before it’s too late!

I hope to see you again soon. Until then, take care of yourselves and remember: Don’t be afraid of the shadows. That’s where the unusual resides!