Footnotes of a January (22nd) Day. Thoughts on facing Fears.

I’m still somewhat in awe of how well the vaccination lines were handled this morning. The last time I spoke with my mom, there were no issues. So far so good. Still, I wanted to hang close, otherwise I think I would heave headed outside. I’m getting a little claustrophobic.

 I’ve never been one to like small spaces. I need to have room to move, to reach out, to see. That is why I love this room like I do. The new windows that were installed a couple years ago, give me an amazing view of outside. When its warm enough to leave the door open its even better.

 Back years ago, I had to have an MRI done. I’ve come to realize that I’m a bit of a stubborn person. If circumstances warrant it, I refuse to give in, even to my fears. I remember preparing for the test. I remember stretching out on the bed and hearing the instructions. Don’t move.

Then, I felt the movement of being shoved up into that thing as one would close a drawer. I then began the mantra, “I will not run out of air, I will NOT run out of air.” over and over. Then I began to hear the sounds that machine was making and I immediately had the wild thought, “so this is what it would feel like to be inside a video game.” And then had to fight the urge to laugh for the rest of the test. 

The second MRI was going okay until suddenly every muscle in my body felt like dancing. Its darn near impossible to remain still when your body is wanting to rumba.But I made it, both times. I was able to get through and not hit that panic button that had so nicely provided.

I don’t like heights. When I was a kid, our family had gone on vacation somewhere up in the mountains. My mind wants to say Ruby Falls, but I’m not sure.  At the tourist spot where ever we were, we had to cross a suspension bridge to continue on the trail. It took all mom could do to get me to make it across that bridge. She loves to tell how by the time we got across, the two men who had been intoxicated at the start, were now sober.

 Adult, stubborn me didn’t like that memory so I’ve been fighting it. While my house is not that high,  I make it my mission, to go up and sweep the leaves off the roof and put our Christmas lights up. While up there I make a point in moving toward the back where I can look out into the woods behind the house. I still get nervous, but I’m getting better.

Oh yeah, and I’ve loaded up the dog and hiked to the top of a mountain a time or two.

I don’t know how to swim and that is a multi layer problem. I don’t do well out on the open ocean. We joined a group on a chartered deep sea fishing boat once years ago. Back before my son came along. Let’s leave it at, it didn’t go well. Even after taking Dramamine, it was awful. Of course the minute I heard someone say, I see land, I was all better. So I can’t help but think a large part of that was the fact I can’t swim. So I stay out of deep water. If its over my ankle, that’s too deep.

While looking for the name Dramamine, I found this site, it has some cool information on battling motion sickness: https://www.healthline.com/health/motion-sickness-remedies#medication

I’m also no big fan of reptiles. I’m not really so much afraid of them, just a very healthy respect. I did however find a few of these this past summer.

Way back a life time ago, when I was a lot younger, I had a fear of the things that lurk in the dark.

 As a child when I would spend the night with my maternal grandparents, the different room, different bed, different monsters in the dark. My grandmother told me once, listen for the crickets. As long as they are singing, nothing is out there. The songs of the crickets became my lullaby. One reason I still love open windows in the summer.

Then again thanks largely to a supposed prank by a high school friend, that I took way too real. Yes, I was more than a bit gullible. What she had me believing had me terrified of the night. Terrified that when I went to sleep, I would not see the morning.

The quiet of the night in the house is also rather unnerving.  You hear everything. Then, from the other room, you try to figure out what made the sound, or if you really heard a sound or only dreamed that you heard something.

I have moved past the fear of the things that go bump in the night, but I do still have a small nightlight in my bathroom. That is to try and help prevent me finding things like the door with my little toe. Poor things have been broken enough. 

I do though enjoy summer nights sitting out back beside a fire pit. I love sitting out in an open area and watch the night sky. Watching lightening bugs- or fire flies if you prefer- as they dance about the night. I love listening to the songs of the crickets and bullfrog down at the pond. It has a peace to it now.

When my husband died, I grieved his death, but I was also terrified of being alone. Even though his health had not been the best, I still thought we would get that grow old together thing. We didn’t. As that deep, searing pain of grief came under some semblance of understanding. When I could breathe, I knew I had to face what ever was coming.

 I have no idea, not the most remote idea, of how long my life will last, no one really does. All I know was I was standing, looking at the calendar and knowing that I had a choice. I could stand up, take a deep breath and live, or I could curl up in a corner and give up. If you recall, I mentioned earlier I was stubborn.  So I began putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. Now almost four years later, while I still have things to learn, I do believe I’m doing better. I feel more confident, stronger, braver. Ready to face the next challenge that comes.

We all can do that, should we so choose. What battles do you fight? What have you over come? What brings out your stubborn streak?