Fear.
My biggest challenge in my life is that I believe that fear seizes the driver’s seat. A second too late and I am overcome with a sense of euphoria; a singular moment where hope for my future floods my senses and I believe that I can accomplish anything and that I am in control of everything. A second too early, however, and I am paralyzed by my obedience to its perilous threats. I imagine its tyrannical grasp leaving lacerations on the steering wheel, and maybe I imagine it so vividly because that is how I envision its deathly grip on my own life.
When my fear is ignited, agitation, anxiety, and despair will immediately convene, ripping me apart piece-by-piece to dissect every insecurity I have. My fear takes me out of the present moment and plunges me deep into a fictional reality that I don’t know how escape from.
I feel like I am drowning from an indistinguishable weight that has been cinched to my ankles and thrown carelessly into the abyss, demanding me to follow it. For a split second, I want to – for a moment, it’s not a matter of resistance, strength, and willpower, but a matter of choice and then, as the rope becomes tighter, I quickly remember that I’ve never really had one.
All I must do to survive is loosen the mass and dart to the top for air. I know how to swim, the knot is not difficult to untie, and yet, I remain submissive and paralyzed as the weight of the water crushes my lunges. If I untie the rope, I’ll survive, but I have no idea what lies in store for me above water (and that’s terrifying). By leaving the rope tied, it keeps my false sense of control intact – at least I know what will happen next.
Even when my need for control is inherently destructive, I clinch onto it. By manipulating myself into believing that I can control the situation, it gives me a sense of security that I don’t naturally have with the outside world. It’s not that I’m actively choosing to keep the weight tied to my own ankles, it’s that I am ultimately not choosing to do anything about it.
Humans don’t just have a fight or flight response; we also have a freeze response. I have learned that my reaction to fear is to freeze; I’m not just scared to lose, my fear is so ingrained that I am petrified to win.
However, I do wish to develop a different relationship with fear and so this is where I vow to finally cut the rope.
Fear has been a part of my life for so long that I don’t know if there has ever been a day I’ve lived without it. It’s not easy to wake up and stop perpetuating bad habits. I’m having to strip myself down, assess what I’m doing, fight my urges to continue doing wrong, and anxiously meander into the unknown.
It has been annihilating and I struggle so much. I fall down. I get back up. I fall again, this time, off a cliff with Fear as my driver and the next time into an infinite abyss with a weight tied to my ankles. I suppose this is where I should begin to try to uplift this entry – give my words some fortitude, but this sucks. This hurts, this burns, this is scary, and I still want to stomp my feet and yell in defiance like the old me because it is comfortable and familiar.
I know what happens when I cower and let Fear drive, what I don’t know, however, is what’ll happen once I’m courageous enough to take back the driver’s seat.
“Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found.”