Very few things offer me more comfort than the sound of a chainsaw revving.

There’s something about horror that provides me with a profound sense of tranquility. Scary films reliably help me doze off on flights. “Hereditary” was my comfort movie while I healed from a septum surgery a few years back. I find slasher films particularly meditative. Haunted houses also give me a feeling of belonging – Halloween is the best time of year for me because of these experiences.

Each autumn, I try to visit as many haunted attractions as possible. I make it a tradition to attend Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios Hollywood, often returning numerous times to absorb every gruesome detail. This year, I also went to sneak peeks of the Los Angeles Haunted Hayride and Creep X Ghosts LA Experience – both experiences left me feeling rejuvenated and at ease.

This reflection led me to question… what is it about horror that resonates with me? Why do haunted houses soothe me? And, most importantly, is there something wrong with this preference?

It turns out that there’s a variety of reasons people are attracted to horror, many of which we might not even realize. While the notion of going through haunted houses or watching horror films to relax might seem absurd to some, it actually makes a lot of sense.

“From what I’ve learned, there are significantly more benefits than drawbacks to experiencing fear,” says therapist Marni Feuerman. “We notice that afterwards, people often feel a sense of calm after such experiences.”

Why do people like me find horror soothing?

I identify as someone with anxiety, which makes my affinity for horror puzzling to those close to me. I’m an overthinker and often fret about what lies ahead. So why do I feel at peace when a man in a mask waves a chainsaw in my face? Why do creatures such as demons, ghosts, and killers provide me comfort, while even drafting a delicate email sends me into a spin?

To explore this, I consulted several therapists. Two of them quickly posed the same question: Did I endure a traumatic childhood?

Thankfully, I respond – my upbringing was quite pleasant overall. They both mention they often ask this because some individuals with traumatic pasts find solace in horror – it serves as a fictive escape from personal pain. Some mental health experts also suggest that people gravitate towards horror as a method to reclaim control over their traumas, although this idea can be contentious.

“It’s believed that individuals may have a tendency to relive their traumatic experiences until they feel they can manage them, thus feeling less threatened internally,” says therapist Erik Anderson. “I consider this more of a myth because we simply don’t have substantial proof to back that up.”

While my life has not been particularly traumatic, I do experience significant anxiety. Could this be the reason I enjoy haunted houses?

Psychotherapist Stephanie Sarkis suggests that perhaps so. People have various coping mechanisms for anxiety. For some, horror can be an effective way to relieve stress, while for others, it may heighten it.

Anxious individuals may be attracted to horror as it presents a safe way to confront their fears and even find amusement in them. Similar to other enjoyable activities, like video games, horror allows us to engage with frightening scenarios imaginatively and eventually feel a sense of survival over them.

In doing so, we diminish the perceived threat of our anxieties – it suggests that if something awful were to occur, we would manage.

“It simulates environments we might face in real life,” Anderson explains. “If we engage and enjoy these situations, we feel a greater sense of control over them.”

Can getting scared have health benefits? Yes, indeed

Moreover, experiencing fear from time to time is beneficial.

Feuerman points out that when we navigate haunted houses, we experience an adrenaline rush. Once that rush subsides, our brains release chemicals that promote feelings of happiness, rewarding us for overcoming the perceived threat.

These sensations of euphoria are valuable to experience, if only occasionally.

“It’s virtually like an emotional reset,” Feuerman mentions. “Some studies even indicate that individuals feel more resilient afterwards. It’s as if they’ve put themselves through challenging experiences, which boosts their confidence and sense of strength.”

After talking to various therapists, I’m still uncertain why I enjoy haunted houses so much. Perhaps I’m just an average thrill-seeker. Maybe these experiences strengthen my sense of resilience. Or it could be an even deeper reason.

Haunted houses offer a unique escape where I can forget about my life or the uncertainties ahead. In those moments, I’m not preoccupied with economic worries or a contentious presidential race. Within the walls of a haunted house, those concerns are irrelevant. The only thing that registers is the terrifying figure with a chainsaw looming ahead of me.

There’s a certain charm to that.

“When you’re in a haunted house, with people unexpectedly jumping out at you, you are fully engaged,” Anderson explains. “You are living in the moment, focused on simply making it through. This sense of presence seems much more aligned with well-being than the anxiety of sitting in an office worrying about future obligations or other people’s perceptions.”

Amidst the phony zombies and monsters, I feel a sense of balance and focus unlike any other. These frightful beings urge me to pause and appreciate the present moment, reminding me that it is all we truly possess.

And when I embrace that perspective, life doesn’t seem so terrifying after all.