Fear, hope and other four letter words

fear2“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Frank Herbert, Dune

2015 was a sucky year (then again, 2014 wasn’t much fun). In looking back over the past year(s), I realized that it wasn’t the events themselves that were horrible (although almost losing my daughter and my husband wasn’t anything to celebrate), but what they did to me.

I went from being a fairly confident, mostly optimistic suburban soccer mom who was able to juggle marriage, motherhood, career and outside interests with some degree of success, to a weepy woman who could barely handle getting up and getting dressed (which reminds me-why don’t they have pajama days at work?).  Oh, I managed to come up with multiple excuses for “stepping back” from activities I had previously enjoyed – soccer, reading, writing, stand-up comedy,  lighting design and playing chauffer to the teen. I blamed age, fatigue, increased stress at work, my bad knee – but when I took a hard look at my life, I realized that there was only one thing stopping me. FEAR.

Fear is like the abusive boyfriend who compliments you on your outfit, then asks if you have a skirt that’s “not as short/tight” or tells you that your makeup is “a little overdone”. Eventually you second guess everything you do/say/wear and run it by the boyfriend for his approval. Fear convinced me that the things that had happened were somehow my fault – that if I had spent more time at home, or less time doing things that I enjoyed, everyone would be better off. Fear whispered in my ear, telling me that there weren’t enough hours in the day for a “woman of your age” to do EVERYTHING, that even Wonder Woman deserves a break, that it would be better if I just came home and zoned out in front of the television.

After the second time that my husband almost died, I realized that Fear had lied to me. Stepping back from the things I loved hadn’t kept my husband safe. If Fear lied about that, what other lies was he telling?

The best part of having my husband almost die was that I was lifted up by people who loved us. I was lifted high enough to see a glimmer of hope, and Hope sends Fear running.

Once he started running, I saw Fear for what he is – a liar and a cheat. It was then that I remembered my favorite acronym.





Run you bastard, run





5 responses to “Fear, hope and other four letter words

  1. The analogy between fear and an abusive boyfriend is amazing and something I can completely relate to. Having lived with both, I know how hard it is to escape from them. I hope 2016 is a better year than the last two, and I hope that bastard (fear) runs as far away from you as you let him… 🙂

    • Thank you. I think that they (abusive boyfriends and fear) are evil little cowards who make themselves bigger by tearing us down. I hope that 2016 is an amazing year for you as well!

  2. Fear and anxiety can be such a pain! Especially when so many bad things happen, one right after the other… It almost makes the fear seem justified – even when NOTHING could be done to stop the crappy thing from happening in the first place.

    I can totally relate to the Wonder Woman thing where you feel you have to do ALL of the things. I wish there was a way to balance. A way to do all of the things – including rest 🙂

  3. Well, Cosmo tell us we can do it all, and do it all well. I think the only solution is to take down Cosmo magazine – who’s with me? 😉

  4. Pingback: Fork, yeah! | Twisting Suburbia

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s