Fear...

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

(Frank Herbert, from "Dune")



So, a friend I hadn't heard from in a while led me to this topic (thank you, Mr. Man), through his email response to former posts. ;-) Fear. One of the BIG things I've had to deal with in my life... and most of us let it rule us far too often, I suspect.

One of those aforementioned cathartic moments brought the danger of letting fear rule me into focus. I was 21 years old... single... and I found myself, through a series of poor choices, pregnant. That was exactly 21 years ago. Certainly not the first time I'd been afraid... and not the last, either. But, it was the one that made the biggest impression on my life. I lost my job, moved back home to my parents' house and didn't tell anyone that I was pregnant. I was in complete denial from an external point of view... though mentally I knew it, and emotionally felt my heart breaking a little more every day because of it. I was terrified. Too terrified to terminate the pregnancy, too afraid to admit and face the reality. So, I was quiet. I disguised my growing girth as best I could with clothing until the fateful day I had to talk to my mom about it. I was an adult - a wise old 21 year old who should have known better than to get in that situation - yes, I used birth control, but it failed. So, even at 21, I was afraid to tell my parents. If I didn't talk about it, surely it would just go away? Not quite. I think I was a bit insane during that time.

Anyway, I told my mom. Told her that even if I wanted to, it was too late to terminate. Told her my worst fear... that I had no idea how I could ever be a responsible mother when I couldn't even be a responsible HUMAN with only myself to worry about. I wasn't ready for that at all, and was terribly afraid of the damage I'd inflict on an innocent child (not physically...emotionally) because of the resentment I would feel at being in a situation I KNEW I wasn't capable of handling. And, through that conversation, I reaffirmed the decision I had already made... to give the baby up for adoption. Lord, how that hurt. Feeling a total failure, still completely frozen with fear over how I would be able to handle it all, we went to the adoption agency and began the process.

It all turned out as good as I ever could have hoped or imagined. My daughter was adopted by a wonderful family that was incredibly generous with me (and I don't mean financially - that was never a part of the process beyond the agency requirements). They sent me photos and kept communication open with me LONG after the requirement was fulfilled. I am still in contact with them today, though my daugher has not chosen to open contact with me, she knows who I am. Her adoptive parents have saved every letter, email, photo and scrap of history I've sent over the last 21 years, ready for her to see should she ever have the desire. I found strength through this process that I never knew I had. Once I had faced my fear and made a decision, I felt strangely at peace. I knew I was doing the right thing for both myself and the baby, even though it hurt like hell. That got me through some challenges that I never expected to face.

So, that brings me to the topic... fear. What is it that we really fear in the deepest, darkest parts of our minds? What holds us back, cripples us, immobilizes us to the point where we can't function without denial of some sort or another? Fight or flight ... those are the natural responses to fear. More often, I think we choose flight if not faced with mortal peril. What is it?

Fear of: the unknown...exposure... rejection... ridicule... disappointment... pain... commitment... failure...or that one I never understand - fear of success. What the hell is THAT, anyway??? That's another topic all on its own.

We fear that people will learn something about us that will make them think less of us in some way... find us less intelligent, not as sensitive, not as strong, less responsible, less beautiful/handsome, incapable or simply not willing. And the more we care about the person we're hiding from (or the more we believe we have to lose), the greater the fear. And, to put it more simply... we're afraid someone will move us from the category of "good" to the category of "bad" or "evil". We put so much stock in others' opinions of us... basing our own self worth on THEIR image of us, that we forget the most important thing... each of us has to face only ourselves and our own actions in the mirror each morning. It begins and ends there. If we are happy with ourselves, others can be happy with us. If we look in the mirror with self-loathing, no one else will ever be able to change that... and THAT is what will be understood as truth eventually, by anyone that digs deeply enough beneath the facade we construct to discover it.

So, back to Frank Herbert... his message, even though written for a work of fiction, makes sense and is one I understand... identify the fear. Understand where it comes from, and face it head on. Once that is done, it can be dealt with, so that you can move past it, never to have it darken your mind again. You will be stronger because of it. Only when you ignore it will it get the better of you.