Thursday, May 2, 2013

but itself...

It's 10am and after a long day yesterday the first thing I feel when I wake up is daunting fear.  Will I be able to make it back home tonight?  I force myself not to think of all the steps to get there, and instead focus on the fact that it is 7:30am and I never feel well or strong or courageous at 7:30am.  It's a bit hard to be afraid of normal things, because there seems little reward when you complete the task, just a frustration that it was so hard in the first place.

When I was in the doctor the other day I browsed through Pema Chodron's book, When Things Fall Apart and there was the following sentence, "When I was first married, my husband said I was one of the bravest people he knew.  When I asked him why, he said because I was a complete coward but went ahead and did things anyhow."  This could be my mantra.  I don't know where the fear comes from, my doctor tells me a large part of it is the constant irritation that infections have on my nervous system.  When I look back at my life that does seem to make sense, when my body feels healthy I feel much more stable.  But fear is always my Achille's heal, and right now I feel as if it could snap.

It's embarrassing to feel so afraid all the time.  It's the vulnerability I suppose.  This illness for me at least seems to expose oneself raw, to be so dependent upon others, and unsure if your body is going to cooperate on any given day.  Perhaps others handle it with anger or complete mindfulness composure, unfortunately my default is being afraid...and then I go ahead and try anyways.  Fear itself in my opinion is a pretty worthy foe.

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