The Fears that Form Me

Because admitting to them is the first step towards understanding. And from understanding comes acceptance, and the ability to change; to heal. You will find no explanations in this post. Just a glance at the raw fears that form who I currently am. The explanations will come with time, as I find the strength to write through them - to work through them, over and over again, until they no longer control me.

I am afraid of being abandoned and left behind.

I am afraid of not being in control.

I am afraid of trust.

I am afraid of being happy.

I am afraid of being hurt.

I am afraid of hope.

I am afraid to dream.

I am afraid of people seeing me.

I am afraid of never being seen.

I am afraid of things changing.

I am afraid of things staying the same.

I am afraid of being touched.

I am afraid of being unlovable and worthless.

I am afraid of failing.

I am afraid of succeeding.

I am afraid of loss.

I am afraid of gain.

But most of all...

I am afraid of myself.

On Fire and Passion

"Rest my fear, lay my head,

drown my soul, paint it red.

Wild blood, rule me now,

hold my hand, show me how

to recognize you."

~ "Wild Blood", by Lovedrug

I am afraid of fire. When I was a child, from around two years of age up until my tweens, I had horrible nightmares multiple times a week in which I would be trapped, often with my family, inside my house as it was engulfed in flames. I could feel the heat, and the burn as the flames licked my skin, and the stinging in my throat , its dryness preventing me from screaming. But what I remember most was the complete and utter helplessness I felt, feeling tiny in the face of something that was eating, destroying my entire world. Destroying me. I had no control.

The dreams were bad enough that they caused my family to move when I was two. Eventually, when we moved again when I was maybe ten or eleven, the nightmares lessened and settled into this horrible anxiety where I would become so convinced that when I went home after school, the only thing left of my house, my life, would be ashes. 

Exposure to physical fire did not seem to help. I was raised in Camp Fire, which, even if you do not know the group, you can probably guess involves camps and fire. I learned how to tend the flame, to build it, that it is not indestructible. But I was still the little child who insisted on fetching water in buckets and standing several yards away, prepared to douse the fire, or run. 

I did not light a match until I was over eighteen; did not use a lighter until I was in my early twenties. I resigned myself over and over again to the inevitability of dying in a fire, or worse, losing everything and everyone I ever loved to it. The resignation would only stick for minutes before the anxiety would flare and I would find myself crumpled up on the floor.

But by the time I was twenty-four, not only did I enjoy building and tending fires, but I found myself working comfortably with flame torches. I am still not entirely sure how I got from point A to point B. I imagine it has something to do with making the decision to see that while, yes, fire can be destructive, it can also bring forth beauty. After all, are not all elements both life giving, and life taking? That does not stop me from still freaking out around open flames, on occasion, but it has become very rare.

If you are still reading this, I imagine you may be wondering what an entry that seems entirely about pyrophobia has to do with passion. But fire and passion are intimately linked for me, and while I may be comfortable with white-hot torches, I am still terrified of the internal flame. So I am constantly dousing it.

I work a little with the elements, and while I find myself most strongly aligned with water, fire is a close second. But I am not afraid of water. I have had many dreams where the ocean overtakes me and I perish, and I had a rather personal brush with the concept of drowning as a child. So why was I not afraid of water, too?

Water is cool, and fluid; steady and rhythmic. It pushes, and presses, and adapts. Fire is hot and flickering; it catches, and traps, and ignites with air, then dies away. Water fills the void. Fire creates it. You sink down in water. You go up in flames. 

Internal fire, passion, is vulnerability. It is safe to sink down, to get lost inside myself where nobody can find or reach me. But passion demands outer expression. It demands wholeheartedness, and commitment, and confidence. I can give myself to water. But to open myself up to fire would mean relinquishing control and letting the flames engulf me, move me in ways that the entire world would be able to see, if they looked. 

And for someone who is afraid of being seen; who has major trust issues, very little confidence, and does everything possible to avoid even minor conflict to the point of sacrificing oneself; that is a very big deal. Not only would I keep having to stop myself from dousing my own passion over and over again, but I would be giving others the opportunity to do so as well. And, in the past, that is usually what happened.

I know it can be said that nobody can make you feel a certain way without your consent. But that ability also requires confidence, trust in oneself, and self-esteem that I am sorely missing. It also requires a lack of caring how others see you, and even a lack of caring for that person, which is fine if it is a stranger. But when it is your loved ones...well, that is a different story. I cannot jump back up when a loved one pushes me down. Not yet. I am working on it.

But that means massive change. It means lighting the match and setting my heart and soul ablaze.  It means tending that internal flame, and stopping myself from putting it out at every twist and turn like I have always done in the past. It means pulling myself out of the dirt, and hesitantly starting to climb. It means deciding that my wants, and my needs, are important and should not go unsaid. It means accepting vulnerability.

And so, every day since I first heard it live  in mid-March of this year, I sing the lyrics at the start of this post.. It has become my prayer to fire, to myself. It reminds me to try and let myself feel given to something. Let myself feel moved to action, even if that action is squealing, or gasping, or jumping in excitement - all of which are there, for others to see, to judge me for. I try to tell others what I want. What I need, knowing full well it could be shunned. 

To not submerge and kill my flame. 

A Habit a Week - Week One

I have a lot of poor habits. Some of them are common enough: I bite and pick at my nails; I overeat, especially sweet things. Others are a bit more odd, such as obsessively cleaning my ears until they bleed (eczema so does not help). And some make living painful, and life bordering on unmanageable: running away from everything; my brain telling me that I am incapable, unworthy, horrible, useless, unlovable - and I listen.

Additionally, there are a lot of good habits I wish I had, and want to cultivate. Drinking more water. Properly caring for my skin. Walking daily. Being comfortable in my body. Having confidence in myself. Being able to say what I want to say, and do what I want to do, rather than being paralyzed by fear of how I will be received. Giving myself pep talks.

Creating plans and concrete steps is something I am very inexperienced at (look, I stopped myself from saying I am bad at it!). So when I came up with this idea to tackle a new thing every week, I was excited. In the past, I did not believe I could actually change things. I would try, and fail shortly after. Or my attempts would be very long and drawn out, because they are major changes. But I need more immediate results to prove to myself it is possible.

I got my first taste of that when I spent a month with Z, and my diet radically changed. Among several other things, I was no longer getting my fluid intake from diet sodas. After what wound up being withdrawal from the aspartame, I decided not to consume artificial sweeteners anymore. When I returned home, most of the good habits I had picked up were lost when I was in the pit of depression.

But as of November 17, 2011, I have not had any artificial sweeteners. And that has shown me that I actually can make changes that stick longer than a week or two.

And, so, March 19th, the Habit a Week challenge was started. Here is how it works:

Week One

Give up or change an existing habit pertaining to the physical. For example, this past week I gave up desserts (I am allowed chocolate that is 50% dark or more). The goal is not to punish myself or permanently deprive myself, just break the habit (in this case addiction and over consumption of sugar, especially in processed foods).

Week Two

Alter a habit that pertains to mental and emotional health. This coming week, the goal is to catch when I am insulting myself, and try and look at it more objectively and correct it. So when I say I am too incapable for a job, or that I am not strong or brave enough to move across the country, I will, instead, tell myself that I am capable and I can do it.

Week Three

Introduce something entirely new. For example, the first thing I will introduce is walking at least four hours a week outside of my day job.

Week Four

Evaluate how I did with week one's habit. If I am still doing good with it, then I can introduce a new habit to work on in that category. If I slipped up or feel I need more time, then I refocus on week one's habit, and try again for the next three weeks.

Week five, I evaluate week two and do the same thing. Week six, evaluate week three. Seven, evaluate both week one and four. And so on, and so forth.

Some habits I expect may stick fairly easily. Others, especially in the second category, I expect may take months before I am ready to add a new habit. I am hoping by mixing time consuming, more abstract, and concrete habits, I will get the visible results I need to keep myself motivated and going, as well as make progress with more difficult issues.

And so, expect a weekly update on here regarding habits. I have been completely successful so far with the desserts. If anyone else cares to join me, or would like to share some of their habits they want to break, or new ones to cultivate, please feel free to share in the comments!