word of the day

I recently added a word to English.

consomnaplatonic
n. A person who sleeps with a romantic partner, either in the same bed or room, without having sex.
adj. Sleeping with a romantic partner without any sexual activity.
Rel. words - consomnaplatonically, consomnaplatonicism, nonconsomnaplatonic.
Usage: "Did you know A and J are dating? They're in a consomnaplatonic relationship now."

This phenomenon confuses me a little, as I am not interested in consomnaplatonicism and would not remain a consomnaplatonic very long were I to engage in it. I am certain the consomnaplatonic way of life is limited to a tiny fraction of the college-age population, but its existence intrigues me. Is it a new phenomenon, or have couples been (not) doing it forever? Perhaps it is only a series of very strange isolated incidents I am trying to string together into a phenomenon. Anyway, now I have a word to describe it.

I haven't trademarked this word yet, so you are all free to use it as much as you like. My thanks to Anne for her tireless support and help in this vocabulary expansion effort.

* Apparently I need to clarify that this word describes couples who are not married. So, just so everyone knows and no one has any reason to be offended, consomnaplatonics are not married to each other.

afraid of the dark

Before I was seven, I was scared of the dark. The trip outside between my back door and the garage terrified me after sunset. I remember it mostly being the tigers. It was the fact that I couldn't see they weren't there. You never knew. This fear made me very reluctant to venture outside the safety and light of my house. Even when the porch light was on, there was always that vast dark unknown just beyond the small border of light. When I couldn't control my fear any longer, I would break into an adrenaline-fueled run to safety. I was also afraid of being outside my covers after going to bed. After all, I couldn't see the floor, and you never knew what could be hiding under your bed or on the way to the door and light switch. Sheets and a comforter, of course, would protect me from anything.

But when I was seven, I had an epiphany: tigers are not indigenous to Indiana. Not only are they not indigenous, but they don't tend to escape from zoos or exotic pet-owners very often in the middle of cornfields and sneak into old houses through locked second-story windows without somebody knowing. The same applies to bears. I learned that I could control my panic by refusing to entertain irrational fears. I could walk between the porch and the garage without letting my thoughts get out of control. My reasoning was something like this: if there was no way that whatever I was afraid of could be true, I couldn't be scared of it. After that, I was never ever afraid of anything irrational again (unfortunately not true).

Over the summer, I was at Brevard Music Center in the Blue Ridge mountains, where I had to do quite a bit of walking at night, in the dark, without a flashlight (apparently the only thing I forgot to bring - just ask my roommates). And I had a very similar experience when I became afraid in the dark. On the way up the hill to my cabin, with only a faint blue cell phone light to guide me, I became very scared of stepping on an unsuspecting animal, like a snake, and causing both of us physical and emotional damage. One of my roommates had recently almost stepped on an oblivious snake while we were walking in the same area, so although I generally expected animals to see me and get out of my way instinctively, it didn't seem like a completely irrational fear. I couldn't just tell myself it was impossible, and I found myself once again getting an adrenaline rush as my brain raced through the (seemingly) horrifying possibilities. In one sense, it was funny as I remembered feeling that way when I was younger and laughed at myself for still being "afraid of the dark." In another sense, it was puzzling. How am I supposed to control rational fears, and keep my response from becoming irrational? It seemed like I had to learn to control the way I think over again.

What about fears during the day? The dark is just a visual unknown. I've realized there are still lots of things I am afraid of, like my relationships, the future, failures. Occasionally I realize I've let my worries become irrational fears. I thought the struggle was over, but really it just changed. The point of it all: I'm trying not to obsess over the material unknown.