I just finished writing a story. I was planning to post it but as I sat here and I thought better of the idea. It’s not ready, or more aptly I’m not ready.
It’s very personal and unfortunately very sad. Something that I have shared with no one save one person, not my counselors, not my friends, no one knows about this. Well there is one person, one who knows this story as I said, so that is a start, everyone else will have to wait.
So why bother writing this? Well now, I have this very real, very sad portion of my life on paper. It scares me. That is why I am writing this, to get out those feelings, to work through whatever it is that I have going on now.
Fear is a powerful motivator; I would argue it drives us more than any other feeling. Look at nature for examples of this or even our very own history. Fear can change the hearts and minds of even the best people.
What would you do if someone held a gun to your head?
You may or may not do anything depending on how scared you are.
What if we point that gun at your family, or the people you loved the most, how about your kids?
With the proper motivation, you would probably walk on water if you had to.
In his first inaugural speech FDR said, “… the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
Maybe he was right, we have nothing to fear but fear itself. But then again there are things out there to be afraid of, my father for example.
I hate bullies, always have and always will. My father was a bully, always picking on people smaller than him. He would never hit me now, for him there is no sport in picking a fight with someone bigger than he is.
There are precious few things I am truly scared of in this world; I have an irrational fear of heights, which I overcome on a regular basis to the point where people are surprised. I am afraid of being maimed, anyone who has been to war will tell you that while they are afraid of dying the thought of being maimed is worse, if you are dead you don’t know it, maimed you will live.
However, at the end of the day, the thing I really am scared of is going into the bathroom, looking in the mirror and seeing my father looking back at me. Becoming my father is my fear, so I do everything in my power to be his antithesis.
This is one of many reasons I do not have children, I could never forgive myself if I ever treated them the way my father treated me.
I know fear; I lived with him.
