My Relationship With Fear

(An unedited rant)

Looking back at my life's encounters, I think of myself as a fearful being. Not just for the sake of declaring it to the word and claiming it as an act of honest acceptance, but it is how it is, and I think, rightfully so.

As I sit here in quiet introspection, I am forced to revisit and re-experience several moments of my life which could have been better, a source of my deepest and most meaningful of experiences, but which succumbed to my omnipresent and relentless fear and now remain a regretful memory. These are those moments for which I feel the deepest regret and sorrow since it is not about the fact that I tried and and failed, or that I took a step forward and things went all haywire. But the fact that I couldn’t even muster the courage to try in the first place that pains me. It is as if an innocent doorway seems like a gigantic mountain to me, always hindering my path and something that I’ve never (yet) been able to win over and cross. It is my experience that fear as an emotion, also brings with it a host of other emotions, particularly anger. How many times have we said hurtful words which we later regretted owing to a moment of fearful anxiety? Fear, for me, has been a source of some of my worst behaviours, those which I haven’t yet stopped feeling sorry for.

These range from the silliest of fears (silly for all others but me) like of encountering a pack of dogs on the street, while I stand there defenceless (yes!) to extreme adventure sports to the fear of the dark, of clowns, of thieves breaking into the house, of fire, of high altitudes, the list can go on and on and on… At times like these, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath quickening, and me frantically searching for an escape, ‘just this time’ I say so, every time. This has also led to several moments of first-hand embarrassment, either due to passersby who couldn’t stop themselves from saying “oh, this is such a silly thing to be scared about” or “why don’t you try for once, you’re not the firs one to do it”, or due to my friends, relatives or family members, who thought it was perfectly all right to make me a subject of public ridicule for some reason. This is accompanied by a paralysing combination of a mind that holds on to the tiniest of details and feelings and that never allows me to forget an incident years after it has taken place. Oh, the brain of an overthinker! *sigh*.

As a result of a series of introspective periods, I’ve analysed my relationship with fear and it’s inhibiting influence on my life. This fear is my challenge and my demon to slay, for it will come until I do, unannounced and gnarly. The only way out is to order this brain to function, to demand solutions instead of this crazy circling anxiety. So though it feels as if my bones have no more strength and my muscles are all out of power, I still have the option to remain still, to be quiet enough to choose how to fight.

If you are afraid of sunshine, even the sun is scary to you. If you are afraid of rain, even a sweet shower is scary to you. For if you love sunshine, If you love rain, they are a lullaby for the soul. Fear lives not in the world, but within the mind. So when fear calls at your door, Bang, bang, bang… Ask why you are afraid. And then you will find, there is only sunlight in your doorway, only gentle rain in your garden."

Though this relationship is flawed, there have been small wins (unfortunately only a few). I still remember, with pride and delight, the time when I was parasailing over the treacherous, wild, blue waters of the Pacific in Pattaya back in 2017. I’d felt a jolt as the parachute, tied to a speedboat, rose up in the air and I felt the gush of wind in my face. And naturally, the panic monster kicked in, though here, giving in to this monster wasn’t a choice, since there is little you can control from 100 feet above in the air. “You do not know how brave you are until being brave is the only choice you have”. I’d heard this quote umpteen number of times, but only in that moment, could I grasp the full meaning of it.

Fear is shackles, fear is a knife in the gut slowly twisted, fear is a constant hammer on the head, pounding in the ears. Yet fear also evaporates like water under an early summer sun. When fear comes, it is best to walk with confidence right past, because like the ghosts of children's nightmares, fear is an illusion, though I admit, it is easier said that done (who else could understand it better) but I’m learning to take tiny steps to towards it, even if my feet tremble. Being brave isn't the same thing as being stupid. Often it pays to weigh up the pros and cons of action vs. inaction. I can think of many instances where the brave choice was to walk away or to ‘give up'. When a situation is intractable, when every move is a bad move, it can take courage to take yourself out of the equation. High emotions are often, though not always, counter productive. There are times for meeting fire with fire, and others for meeting it with ice.

I’ve realised, that the only thing to do henceforth, is to feel the fear, take a step forward, feel the fear, take a step forward. And then, as if by magic, I’ve observed, I find confidence, I find my voice. The difference between taking a step forward or not is everything. And over a lifetime it defines who you are. All those steps build a brave soul and, in time, an accomplished person who extends their helping hand to others, and one who has respect and love for themselves as well. And hence, being brave becomes a way of being, one to embrace, and there would be nothing more liberating for me.

-A.