It seems lately that I am more conscious of this ever present sense of fear that hangs over my life. Now, I realize how heavy and foreboding that sounds but a healthy dose of fear is present in everything we do, or at least that is what I believe. Fear is a motivator, sometimes to make us do things, sometimes to keep us from doing things. So far, my actions seem to be focusing on the later of those two choices. I have a weakness for fear. Secretly, I think its an addiction. Being afraid keeps me safe, it keeps me from getting hurt, it keeps me in a comfortable sense of routine that won't change and won't be unexpected. As many of you know my life has been a whirlwind the last few years, and although I have crammed a healthy amount of change into this period of time, not a lot about myself has changed. Sure I got married, got a dog, changed jobs, became an auntie, moved in and out of apartments, and helped my husband through school, but what does that really mean?
It means I'm here. Looking down on a valley of uncertainty and I'm scared. Scared like I never have been in my life before because for once I have absolutely no control. If you know me, and most of you do, control is kind of my thing. You know, some people have tattoos, some people like horses or vacations, I like control. Type double, capital A organized, planned, out, listed and bullet pointed control. When I don't have that, or at least the illusion of that, I start to um, well, lose it a little (a LOT). So that's what I'm doing, being here, and not having control, and losing it at a rate of A LOT (not a little).
My fear is irrational. My need for control is irrational. Does knowing this make any of this easier? No. Not one little bit. In fact, knowing makes it all that much harder. There are a lot of days lately where all I want to do is pull the covers over my head and rock myself through the wave of tears that stings me, but doing that would mean losing control...which as I mentioned before, I do not like (with a capital N O T).
But I like the fear. I stand on the edge of this cliff and look into the aforementioned valley of uncertainty and I get a rush. Like rise in your stomach when you miss a step only it lasts for days, sometimes weeks. Even though this rush surges from fear and lack of control, I crave it, crave it like I crave chocolate or salt.
I have no idea what my/our future holds. There. I said it. I have no stinking idea. And I hate it. I want to know, like a child wants to know what they are getting for Christmas. I want to see it, touch it, be able to shout it to the world and take a large dump truck filled with life's most heavy fill dirt and fill in that deep valley of uncertainty and then plant beautiful flowers of knowing on top of it to pretend it never, ever, ever, ever existed. But no matter how many times I look on the job boards, or in the closet, or in my face as I stare at the mirror. I just don't and there is nothing, not one, single, little thing, not begging, not pleading, not screaming, not pulling the covers over my head and crying until the tears won't come, not smiling, not laughing, not paying fortune tellers or doing research. Nope. Not one thing I can do....
and I've just got to accept that.
then I have to own it.
then I have to give it a name and give it a bath and tuck it into bed every night.
whether I like it or not.
Does that make sense? No? Well I guess i'll just have to live with that too.
I really need a bigger apartment.
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