We Go Into the Dark

Self-awareness in the darkest, spookiest places in the face of fear

Phasmaphobia has a wonderful ring to it, but it sounds more like a death metal album than something I can apply to myself. Also I know it’s the name of a PS5 game, but as an old person of 41 who’s been obsessed with or actively in the paranormal since 2003, I’m going to talk about this word literally.

If I were to say I had phasmaphobia, I'd be saying I'm afraid of ghosts. As a paranormal investigator, I'm glad I can't exactly say that's true. I do, however, fear some possibilities when it comes to the idea of ghosts. I don't have a full on phobia though. I don't wake in terror every of them every day and spend hours dwelling on ghosts, and it doesn't impede my life in any way. Most importantly, it doesn't impede my investigating of the paranormal. That sort of fear would have probably run me out of interest and curiosity before too long, and back in my 20’s I had a great naivete and proclivity to believe a lot of paranormal lore without experience yet. I think I’d have fallen to fear a lot more in decades past than now, but I had to start somewhere, right? Even through the worst experiences with the worst people (another time, guys), my intrigue in the otherworldly never brought me to a place of inability when it comes to investigating strange phenomena, thankfully

If anything, the paranormal has made my life more.

More exciting, more possible, more intriguing, more adventurous; more everything. It's somewhat like being an adrenaline junkie but without the extreme sports side of it. I don't have to scale a snowy peak and ski down it to get my kicks. They're in the dark, and usually very quiet. I could say I'm a mental adrenaline junkie, then. I like to go into very old places, whether they're dark or it's broad daylight, and try to witness, or experience something I can't explain the source of.

I don't just want to create a visual projects through video from a few hours in the dark, I want the paranormal to happen. Happen to me, to us, to who is present and willing and living to witness in the short, uncertain bursts it seems to happen in. I can tell you from experience, investigating with people who are afraid of what they can't even define, can be frustrating to watch, and limiting. But like I said, I had to start somewhere, and so does everyone else.

If the dark is terrifying, and you want to conquer that, immersion therapy is probably what the paranormal actually is, on various levels, for most ghost hunters actively taking themselves into the dark. As time goes on and years go by, I've noticed it became easier for me to approach the darkest corners with ease and curiosity more than anything. While 5, 7, 10 years ago I may have approached with a bright flashlight and not turned it off, my confidence in the dark now is not because I can see in the dark better (wouldn't that be a dope side effect) but because I am aware I am not at great physical or mental risk 99% of the time.

Please be certain I am still a human being (ugh weird) and I do still have moments of hesitation in the attics or basements of places with brutal histories and high reputations. Sometimes it might be impossible not to imagine those stories playing out in the very spaces I’m standing. The ability to focus on the present moment, and merely connect it to the former situation while in that same location and want for something I can’t explain to occur is what keeps me standing there. It’s more than the fear.

I remain aware of this during investigations because I've been on many of them, from tiny well-lit apartments and family farms, to massive, stone-walled asylums and prisons. My awareness comes from a self-cognizance of what I've learned, what I've been through, how it's affected me and how I've grown from it all. One has to look back now and again in order to go forward in a direction that knows that focus on What Could Happen is full of endless moments waiting to happen. Maybe the right ingredients are there for it (the people present, the intent, some magic working, a song, devices), maybe it’s a silent night (they happen often), but the What If keeps me aligned on the hope of weirdness.

The paranormal just does not respond like mainstream TV shows would want you to think it does. Clever editing, hamming it up for cameras - it's not exactly a good representation of a normal night in the dark. However, a show is entirely entertaining (I’m not beyond watching most of the content that used to be on TV from around 2001 to 2022). The reality of investigating is so different than TV and the full breadth of emotions in going through a night in places meant to test our boundaries can’t quite be presented accurately over 40 minutes and a screen

.There is so much quiet. So much nothing, and stillness. So much breathing carefully, stepping lightly, and accounting for the coughs and gurgles and snorts and wheezes of our own bodies.

It's deafeningly quiet. That's why when it suddenly isn't quiet, the heartbeat increase and the hyper-awareness that kicks in is a thrilling rush.

That, to me, is excitement. Not fear. It isn't terror, or foreboding, or threatening. It's an invitation to be ready, to sense, to experience, and hopefully to film, capture and present. It feels like my brain kicks into one thought-process: "Something happened, something else might." I love that about the things that seem to literally go bump in the night, and that remains the focus of my investigating when in these dark, "terrifying" places.

I want the rush of the seemingly impossible, and to keep that feeling of possibility thriving. That, I suppose, keeps the rise in emotions that comes from entering a darkened space from turning into fear. Instead, it becomes the anticipation to possibly witnessing paranormal activity. That's what investigators want. That's what we do. What I do. By embracing adrenaline and possibility, I can defy the fear of the unknown within myself, and I believe anyone else can do the exact same.

Thanks for reading,

Amy B.