Monday, February 27, 2012

woman of letters: to my greatest fear

Dear Fear,

You are a long time enemy of mine, one that is so deeply entrenched in the dark cavernous mess that is my mind, that it is difficult to ever imagine myself - minus you. For defining me, without you, seems somehow unnatural. Whether I like it or not, you are the beast that often drives me, in that you stall my forward motion.

There are so many forms of you, that clog my moving parts. Sometimes I fear, fear, that it is only the 150mg of venlafaxine that oils my mind machine, that helps me flick you aside, or drown you out, so that I may keep moving - even if that movement is laborious and difficult to measure.

There are so many facets to your dark mass - you are a whispered thought just as I surrender to sleep; the ill-advised judgement - spoken at a weak moment; a dark passenger, creeping in the hallways of my mind, only to shout at me through muted, messy thoughts, something unhelpful and perhaps untrue? But who's to really know? The truth is, fear - you may be right, or you may be wrong, but there will never be any knowing for certain and it is the constant threat of the 'maybe' that makes you so fucking dangerous.

Let us be specific now; let us delve deeper to discover what is at your black heart...

I am afraid of ending up alone - of never loving, or being loved in the way that gives ones life meaning. Afraid of only ever being a daughter, a sister, an aunty, a friend and never a lover, a partner, a mother, a wife. The problem of you being such a part of me, is that you can use actual truths to twist and hurt me deeply. You know, for instance, that in my 28 years, I've never had a real, hearts on the line, adult relationship...and it is you that tells me this is perfect evidence to suggest my fear of being alone is plausible and highly likely. I fear, fear, you might be right.

When I was a confused 17 year old girl, trying to make decisions about my future - would I go to university? what would I study? what would I do? who did I want to be when I grew up and got adult? It was the fear, fear, of never becoming anyone or doing anything of consequence that scared me then, and even now, leaves me in a fit of cold sweats. In science class, it was discussed that all organisms have their niche - a place they were made for, and meant to be. I fear, fear, that I will never find mine. Perhaps because it doesn't exist.

Of course, I have the everyday fears, the ones that regular people like to override with their coffee, cigarettes or casual sex. I worry about the state of my world, the lone dog on the street with its tail down, it seems lost and I worry what its fate will be - seeing this dog, reminds me of my own dog, and then I worry about her, about how she might die and I worry for how I will overcome the grief when this does eventually happen. I hear about sick children, and begin to worry about my niece and nephew; I hear about violence in schools and new drugs on the streets, and I worry about the ways in which I cannot protect the children in my life. I hear sirens in the distance, and worry that they rush to meet somebody dear to me, I make a silent outline of a cross on the palm of my hand, like I was taught to do when I was a child hearing sirens - an invisible well-wish for the people those sirens are actually for...and I worry, will anybody ever need to make a sign of the cross for me?

I worry that I'll be miserable, no matter what my employ - for the entire length of my working life - I worry I might never discover where my talents really lie - that I might never be anyone special, that I might never amount to much of anything - except a lonely cat lady.

I fear I am forgettable.

Words like 'never' 'won't' 'should' 'can't' - these belong to you, fear, and you dangle them in front of me every single day.

But my greatest fear of all, fear, is that I will always be afraid - that I will never outrun or overcome the doom radio transmission. I fear, fear, that you will always define me - as you define the things I don't do - you are the negative space that draws the outline of who I am.

I fear, fear, we must learn to get along, in spite of each other - because just as you are me, I am also the centre of you. Without me, you are nothing. Well, perhaps you are actually nothing much at all. In this case, I fear, fear, that I will have given credence to something unworthy and imagined my entire life? My entire life?

I fear I will forget these revelations.

Fearfully yours,

1 comment:

Rianna said...

Sweetheart; this is amazing.
I relate to...all of this.
As I've said before; you are not alone.
And, how about your extraordinary writing talent for starters?
Your loyalty?
Your kindness?
Your compassion?
Your physical beauty?
Your mind which, whilst being troublesome to you at times, allows you to access and comment on aspects of the world and express your humanity in a way that's so beautiful and wise, it moves others to tears of understanding and empathy?
Just for a start.