That Fear

That Fear

It’s still there,

That fear.

It’s still there.

 

I can’t recall,

A time when I was free.

Please, Let me be.

Don’t waste it on me.

I’m not doing anything about it.

 

It’s still there,

That fear.

It’s still there.

 

Haunting me,

Choking me,

Hugging me,

It really loves me.

 

It’s still there,

That fear.

It’s still there,

With me.

 

This is another older poem of mine written about an emotion I am all too familiar with, fear.  All my life, I have been running from some invisible danger.  I’ve been restless and on the move, seeking stimulation to avoid the stillness. To be still, is to be unprepared.  One should never let their guard down.  There is, however, a valid reason for why I have been trapped for so many years in this state of extreme watchfulness.

When I was only four years old, I was molested by my next door neighbor.  Although most of the details of the molestation are not well-formed, I believe the memories laid dormant in every inch of my physical being until later in life when it became too hard, too exhausting, and too damaging to continue living at such a heightened state.  When the abuse occurred, I swallowed the shame and secrecy, and denied myself awareness of the event.  I carried in my small frame the promise to never make “the mistake again”, resulting in extreme hyper-vigiliance.  Revealing the secret at the time placed my Mom in danger as the perpetrator was threatening to harm her if the secret was told.  Out of this came my ability to read situations and people with surprising accuracy as it was a way of survival for me.  Years later, I communed with the part of me that had been silenced, devalued, and frozen in fear.  I continue to commune with her and reassure her that she is worthy, visible, and safe.  This event colored my perception of the world and as a result, I have always been fearful, having multiple phobias and general mistrust in others.

And so, “This Fear”, is an expression of what I have always known and remembered.  And I’m working very hard with intention to calm those places within me that still haven’t heard my adult voice that is saying: “I am safe, I am here, I am visible”.  This fear will then let go little by little, realizing that I am not longer under siege.

I felt moved to write this tonight because I was speaking with a friend who also had experienced quite a bit of trauma in her life.  She is truly struggling at the moment.  It reminded me of the last decade of my life of which I call the “Decade of Darkness” where I was engaging in an abusive relationship with a Narcissistic and was recklessly gambling.  I see now that I was filling my hours with chaos in order to avoid the stillness.  Often times stillness to a survivor of trauma feels threatening.  I’m still learning to “be still” and enjoy the peace that is provides.  It is a transformation and I haven’t made it to the other side yet.  I’m intrigued about a life lived with less chaos where I am able to relax and have less chronic pain from years of remaining on guard, often holding my breath.

I feel that this is my greatest work in life, to heal so completely that most of the fear within is released.  Perhaps, I can help those who also hold fear, shame, and despair and are fruitlessly avoiding the stillness, feeling it is less safe somehow.

And so now, I am ready to “do something about it”.  I’m infinitely blessed to have the insight and awareness as to why I held on for so long.  I just want to pick my four year old up and hold her tight, hugging her completely, reassuring that she is in safe hands now.  That fear “really did love me”, it was a source of protection and watchfulness for a time, and I thank you little one for keeping me safe.  Your job is done, you can rest now.