I live in FEAR everyday. I’m not afraid of something tangible like spiders or clowns (although clowns creep me right the fuck out). It’s not some future event that keeps me up at night like when my mother will die or wondering if something harrowing will befall one of my nearest and dearest. It’s nothing like that. It’s more an all-consuming feeling that I will never be able to cut myself out of the straight jacket of FEAR I feel I have voluntarily worn for years. I’m not entirely conscious of it all the time, but it’s there. And no one else knows about it. It belongs only to me. I’m the only one aware that it is always quietly maintaining its’ presence by holding me back, keeping me isolated, ensuring I remain stuck. Always constricting my emotions, my sensibilities, my positivity…sometimes the very breath in my lungs.
I don’t want to be unachieved potential for the rest of my life. I don’t want to miss out on the many, many opportunities I have at my fingertips if I would only just let go of this FEAR. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.
And, wonder of wonders, I’m feeling that FEAR less today than I have in ages. My consciousness has shifted. I think my choice to write here and maybe one day gain a larger audience has inadvertently given me a renewed purpose. I’m actually trying to do something now. I’m taking action. I’m putting forth some effort. I’m really thinking about what I want.
I’ve been waiting for this shift. The idea to write a blog came to me in a quick flash and within 12 hours of thinking carefully about whether it would be a good decision or not, my blog was born. That was….4 days ago. Since then I have had my waves of terror over the fact that now people are going to know about the secret I’ve been keeping. But I’ve also had waves of happiness and confidence because I’m informing people I care about that I’m suffering. And it’s finally ok (at least in my head) to go there.
I’m still afraid though. I know I will not be changing overnight. So, coming to terms with the fact that people in my life might actually check in with me and specifically ask how things are going or if I’m still drinking or if I have tried a meeting yet (the answers today to those questions are – I’m fine, yes and no) is what is scaring me today. And that’s ok because it feels lighter than the FEAR of someone finding out before I had the vocabulary to talk about it. That FEAR was keeping me up at night. That FEAR was squeezing most of the life out of me. That FEAR was what I couldn’t take anymore. I don’t want to do this alone. Sitting in the silence of my own secrets is one of the worst kinds of hell I can imagine. It was eating away and worrying my mind like a rabid, vicious dog.
I have other worries now. New worries. And that’s ok too. So far, they’re smaller than my FEAR. With time and effort and more reading and continuing to be open and writing and writing and writing I think they’ll remain small. Who knows what may happen next? Today it feels like good things are coming. A weight has lifted and I feel that straight jacket loosening as I type.