Day Seventeen: Your Personality on the Page
Today’s Prompt: We all have anxieties, worries, and fears. What are you scared of? Address one of your worst fears.
“Hey, time to get up! There’s something I want to talk to you about…”
And that how my day begins, my brain screaming at me hoping to jar me from whatever rest I was able to achieve. The thumping, no pounding, in my chest tricking my body into thinking that something is very wrong. It’s not until it gets to my ears that I really give it any credence, but when it does I jump running for another room, another place to be. Anywhere but in my bed, even if it means sitting in a robe on the couch in the basement, I run.
I have a few things to be anxious about. Some are things that would knock others off their game if dealing with but a single episode, I’m dealing with three. Fear took over making some rational thoughts some time ago, my knowing that picking the wrong path would set me back even further. In a world where I was measuring wins by weeks and months, I am scrambling to find a small victory in the simplest of things done on a daily basis.
The brain is a nasty, rotten thing when it decides that play time is over for you and it gets to call the shots based on whatever mixture of chemicals is currently flowing. Panic, fear, happy, elated; those are all things I feel in a single flash, all at once and with no ability to separate. Even when I should be feeling the warmth of a single smile, I’m flashing back to some other time when the smile was from something or someone else. My mother joking recently that the nurse had a crush on me and all I could do was frown and ask “why should she care an ounce about me, I’m nothing.”
I hate depression. Almost as much as I hate the cancer that keeps moving about my body. But at least that doesn’t come with such a high price, I can take a pain pill and get past most things. I don’t, because I want to feel the pain. But I also fear what it has left me with. A broken spirit to match my somewhat broken body.
My fear is bolstered by these questions I feel I need to understand. There are a couple of whys that will never be resolved because the answers lay within someone who has told me I don’t deserve to know. That my pain is my issue and they just aren’t going to help no matter what the circumstances. It’s a cruel joke that this person has the ability to control everything because I created a world based on my trust of her.
But while that pounding still rings in my ears, I run from everything and everyone. Hide from the world because I can’t allow any more fear to enter it. If I don’t give anyone the power to help, they also can’t have the power to hurt. There’s a disturbed irony to that.
I hear words like brain chemistry and emotional distress, they make me laugh. To think that the same machine that allows me to remember the level of detail it takes to rebuild entire equations from memory also uses those memories to remind me almost daily of some negatives that I wish never happened. Small children shut me down because I still have questions about my own daughter’s death. Creating a binding trust for something that protects my ex is hard to explain to anyone, even the lawyer! You ever here someone talk about how they wished they could remember everything, I’m telling you it’s not a great thing.
Every smell, every glimmer of positive balanced with seeing and feeling every negative thing all at the same, and all at once.
Fear is an ugly thing. I wish it were just spiders, or snakes, even a water tower; but it’s not. I’m afraid of myself. The guy who looks back in the mirror and thinks that karma has caught up to him. Having internalized someone telling me that everything was my fault, it just let’s the fear have more power.
At least I recognize it. Even while trying to control it, I know it is in the room waiting for me to slip up. It would be so easy to let it become anger and lash out, but that’s just shifting the fear to someone else. In a world were people around me count on using my grumpy demeanor for getting things done, at times it is true anger that wants to burn the world down. Only I fear letting that beast ever come out.
So while this has taken me days to write, it’s short and concise. I know fear right now, and I hope that the most you fear is heights or forgetting to check the stove when you went to the movies. This is not the type of thing I want others to know or understand. But I fear some of you do.