Fear of Fears

Fear, anxiety, anger, aggression... 

These are the worst advisors we can listen to while making any decisions. 

But the king of bad aides is fear of loneliness. I reviewed my own history and I collected all the observations I had been making during my whole life, and I am sure that it is the 'fear of fears' which paralyzes us since the birth. We don't want to be alone not only because loneliness is something unpleasant or scary. For many of us, it is some kind of mark of shame, the ultimate proof we are worse, unworthy of love, not entitled to be happy or fulfilled... 

This is the story of my life - loneliness, fear of being lonely, experiencing unbearable pain of rejection or just being afraid of it. But it started to change once I realized that this is a weapon of vicious (and also scared) people who exploit this wound of mine in order to complete their own agenda. People who try to scare me with the vision of the awful future. 

But can a man be really lonely? The man who entrusted himself in God? Isn't following this fear a negation of Faith? 

People We (don't) Love

In "Guide For (Ultimate) Losers", I wrote about 'people who have never existed', describing the relationships only recreating suppressed feelings toward our parents. If you watched the movie about Tonya Harding - mentioned in the last post - you learned that, after some time, she also realized that her love for her husband was, in fact, the same circumstance she had been in with her mother as a child.

Lately, I had a chance to see how much I was right with my conclusions. People I (don't) love impact my life even more than I thought. People who are only the holograms helping me experience past emotions.

So who are they? 

First, they don't love me. Their first reaction to my presence is hate, anger, and fear. But they hide these feelings and the first behavior is admiration. They praise me for something I do or say...

Second, at some point, they start to sabotage me and my work. Initially, I am not aware of that fact, for they misled me by their compliments. They don't do what they are supposed to do, just like my mother who wasn't fulfilling her parental duties. This passive-aggressive behavior is the ultimate way of expressing hate and anger, even worse than open attacks. 

Third, they expect me to do things they neglected. I am the one who must take their responsibilities on my shoulders. I was responsible for my mother's mood; for improving her relations with her parents; for knowing things little kids don't know because they are too little; for having capacities little kids don't acquire until the parents won't teach them. Now, 'these people' expect me to be an expert in areas that are beyond my knowledge and ability. 

And fourth, they manipulate me by guilt. It is very easy to convince little child that he or she is guilty of various things even though it is against any logic. Then, this conviction is implemented in our brains and makes us vulnerable and susceptible to unspoken persuasions. We quickly play a role of... the malefactor.

This is how I discovered the biggest misunderstanding in my life. 

I caught myself on brooding on what is wrong with me that I constantly came across 'these people'. I was thinking: "There must be something in me, some failure they can see and feel and this is why they behave so badly". Well, there is none. Every time, I am lured into their game, as an actor, the hologram... It seemed that I need them too to play in my own show, but I don't. I don't need any hologram since I can write about everything that happened to me.

Katharsis

Just as a good book can help us make clear certain topics in minds, specific movies may cause a healthy shock by showing us our life from another perspective - as an outside witness.

I watched a film about Tonya Harding, the (in)famous figure skater, with Margot Robbie playing Tonya. I mean, I didn't see the whole film simply because I felt too big distress. It was like watching my own story, despite these stories - her and mine - seem to be so different.

The mother... Aggressive, full of hate towards everything and everyone, especially her daughter. And the daughter had a huge talent quickly discovered by the mother who invented how to exploit it in order to fulfill her own agenda. While watching the movie, I realized that this was only an excuse for her to abuse the girl even more. 

When I was six, my mother sent me to piano lessons, not even asking me if I wanted it. She found out that I love classical music and that I can 'hear' it so she figured out that this would be the source of her own fame. Of course, she couldn't afford the lessons, for we were always poor just as Tonya's family, but she soon realized that this is a fantastic justification for her cruelty and playing the role of a martyr who pays last money to make my future better. For me, there had been six years of unimaginable stress because, in addition, the teacher was nothing but sadistic a**hole who, once noticed that his 'teaching methods' are not condemned, was tormenting me more and more... After the piano course ended, I never played again though I often dreamt about it; I just couldn't force myself.

Luckily, I had other talents left, not entirely taken from me, but, as I understood, for Tonya Harding, skating was the most important thing in her life. And apparently, she had nicer trainers. 

There are many scenes in this movie that reminded me of my own childhood. But one of them was this one drop too much in my bitter cup. Tonya was going for training and the mother demanded a goodbye kiss... though, a seconds earlier, she was humiliating her daughter. I froze. I was in exactly the same situation. THE SAME! As if someone saw my life and filmed part of it. There is a huge difference between having this scene in memory and watching it as a spectator.

Tonya paid the enormous price for being upbrought this way. I know that many people were laughing while watching this movie but there is nothing funny in it. We may be misled by her pose, sharp tongue and dashing manners, however, they are this second side of the coin I wrote before about - aggression. I was devoured by anxiety - she by the anger. 

Relief

I am reading a book right now about anxiety and aggression. Yes, apparently contemporary psychology also came to the conclusion that these are two sides of one coin and there is no fear without anger and vice versa. And this is good. This is very good that I could find such a book written by a serious person who has academic degree and at the same time is considered as an authority. As I mentioned in "The Notes from the Abyss", in certain situations, we need to get these right things from important people - parents, teachers, doctors or scientists. Our nervous system craves for wisdom and support from such people.

I had an only vague conviction that I was right about anxiety-anger coexistence. It was based on my own experience and observations, but it is much better if I can read about that in the academic work, especially that, it concerns problems of little children. I thought to myself: "It is awesome that this book exists and is available. What a relief!". 

Big Belly

I watched the photos made in a photo booth during the company event. And I was alarmed seeing my... belly. I am not thin or fit, mostly because of my age and thyroid disease, but it looked enormously big under my dress, way too big than it should be. What is worse, it's got even bigger since the party like a balloon. This comparison is justified, for, underneath my tightened skin, there is mostly air. It's not aching though I feel discomfort. And, for a long time, I didn't know what is the cause. 

I was in this embarrassing situation before, to be more exact - five years ago and more, but back then, I thought it was related to my current problems at work with an awful boss (and not only him). I was wrong - these events had been only reminding me of something I wanted to forget about, something that caused that I cannot breathe so I am desperately trying to inhale some air into my lungs. I am inhaling and inhaling yet I still feel that I am suffocating so I am catching more air and, as a result, it is also in my stomach and in my enlarging abdomen. My breaths are short but more frequent, but muscles are not oxygenated properly hence I am tired and more stressed.

The cause of my short breaths is fear - just as of most of my problems. I am afraid of being judged and punished for my 'sins' and the judge and the executioner in the same person was my mother. There were other people later on but she was scaring me the most. You cannot imagine how cruel young woman can be for a little girl and how unjust. First, my guilts were in most cases only in her imagination (and even if not she had no right to abuse me in any way). Second, I never had a person who could take my side, who could be my advocate; oh, on the contrary - she had a lot of helpers in her cruelty around her just as she has them today. 

Honestly, I have no idea how to cope with this problem. I cannot give myself a guarantee that, once the circumstances are changed, I won't be afraid of confrontation and that I won't recreate this sequence once more. This is a complicated case, for, as I wrote last time, this fear is not only because of the possibility of being hurt but also because of my own anger. I am simply afraid of my anger. It scares me so much just as the anger of my mother scared me a long time ago. My feelings are terrifying and I haven't learned how to accept they are part of me and, in many situations, they are justified. 

So Angry with These People

I wrote that 'escapism became my second nature'. The thing is I have been wrongly assuming that escapes are something bad; I even once met a psychiatrist (another moron) who assessed that this is a symptom of emotional issues... Maybe it is but it is also very important information - so crucial in the proper medical examination - saying that something bad happened in patient's life and that the patient will be 'telling' this story by escapes until he or she will have an opportunity to tell about it with words. 

I by definition escape from contact with people though I crave their presence in my life. Okay, I avoid very specific kind of people. And, every time they stand on my way, I am sick, and I want to run away. And I didn't know why. Of course, it's because they hurt me or are some other kind of threat. The threat that reminds me of something from the past. 

Unfortunately, the side effect of being raised by an emotionally unstable mother is being equipped with the feature I call 'excessive empathy'. I need only a few seconds to read another person's emotional state and not only this current one but a general mental situation. This is exhausting and causes that I can precisely predict future events with this very person (I think I described it quite well in 'Guide for [ultimate] Losers'). I am NEVER wrong, not in this case.

It is possible that I create the situations in which I can experience repressed emotions with these specific people. Maybe so... The problem is they are responding to me too because this is what their uniqueness is about - they also 'read' me and want to recreate certain situations from the past except they are not aware of that fact whatsoever. 

Right now, I am experiencing such a story once more. And I am sick of it. I am fed up with people who are like my parents especially in places I work in. And this is not the fear I am escaping from but rage, pure fury, and hate... 

I am angry with my parents because they didn't love me and didn't give me what they should have. I had two options: confrontation or escape. The second solution is better because there was no common space in them on which we could find understanding. I know that because I tried solution number one couple of times - with poor results for my health and wellbeing. I am angry with these 'certain people' because I know there is no this space in them either and because, in case of any difficult situation, they will blame me for everything... just like my parents did.

Combat Mode

It is very nice when you have a good and stable job ensuring proper monthly salary; when you don't have to be worried about bills and mortgage repayment; when you can afford not only for meeting basic needs but also for some extravagancies like buying dresses and shoes you dream about, going to fancy vacations and furnishing your flat just as you wish.

It is nice as long as it is not.

Sometimes, and I am the best example, the times of prosperity ruin the wellbeing so badly that the body starts to die. Because, above all, we need a purpose, a thing that makes our life meaningful. And when we must fight for certain things (e.g. paying all debts) we are set in the 'combat mode' and, for some of us, like me, this combat should be very hard and even brutal otherwise... there is no point in living. 

Up the moment I had been making any decision because of fear, everything seemed to be easy. I was 'creating' the situations in which I could feel the anxiety from my childhood (e.g. in regard to mother who was addicted to taking and not paying the loans I had to pay) and I was trying to escape from it. But when you got rid of the fear or your awareness is big enough to avoid this way of behavior the algorithm of deciding must change. You leave your loop and you start living your own life which also must have the purpose.

So this is the question that I am asking myself lately: how can I arrange my current life to find myself in the combat mode again but without fear and repeating stupid actions? 

What I am fighting for this time?