10 Day YOU Challenge -- 8 Fears

8 Fears

This is hard for me.  I’m not one to openly talk about all of the things I’m afraid of.  Some of the things on this list you may have read before (if you’ve read much of my blog), but not all of them.  Bear with me. 

1.       God.  This is what keeps me on my toes.  He’s also the one who can take all of these other fears from me.

2.       Phone calls.  I can take them; I just can’t make them (usually).  There’s a tiny little handful of people who I feel comfortable calling on the phone (J, my parents, and I’m getting more and more comfortable calling the IVF nurse—probably because I know I’ll be leaving a message).  It’s not what you think, either.  I just don’t want to bother people.  I have this incessant fear of interrupting something important or upsetting somebody just by being on the other end of the line.  I’m very appreciative of the makers of email and text messaging, as this allows others to respond to me at their leisure. 

3.       Snakes.  I don’t care if they won’t hurt me, I don’t like ‘em.  I have a very vivid memory of stepping on one as a small child, and I have never liked them since.  I don’t freak out if I’m in a controlled environment with them (like at the zoo), but I don’t want to touch them, I don’t want to encounter them in the wild, and I prefer a thick piece of plexi-glass to separate us.

4.       Making decisions.  I think I’ve mentioned before that I am terrible at making decisions.  While most around me find this particularly annoying, I think I must just be too considerate of other people.  For instance, when my husband asks me where I’d like to eat when we go out, I don’t say, “It doesn’t matter to me, where do you want to eat?” to be annoying, but rather, I thought he might have something in particular he’d been thinking about having. 

5.       Disappointment.  I’m afraid I will disappoint my husband if I never make him a father, my parents if they never have grandchildren, and myself if I am never able to put into practice the mothering skills I so desperately tried to use on my brother when I was 6.

6.       Dementia.  I have this fear of growing old and not being able to remember the best parts of my life.

7.       Being alone.  It’s not what you think, though.  I’m not really afraid to be by myself.  In fact, I lived alone for a year and a half before we got married.  But IF has made me fear that I could grow old and be completely alone.  When my grandmother fell the other day, I began to think about my own future.  What if I outlive J, and we don’t have any children?  If I take a nasty fall, who would I call?  Would anyone come to look for me?  This is not something I dwell on often, but I can’t say it’s never popped into my mind before.

8.       My own imagination.  Because I can dream up situations that are much scarier than what I’ve actually experienced, my imagination can be my greatest asset or my worst enemy.  The good news is that I am not a chronic worrier by trade.  Don’t get me wrong, if someone I love is making a long trip or having surgery, I breathe easier when I know they are safe from harm.  But I spent my life watching other people worry incessantly, and I decided early on that I was not going to be that way if I could help it.  It’s a good thing, too, otherwise my overactive imagination would keep my mind torn up all the time.  Need an example?  Okay.  A few weeks ago, right at the beginning of summer break, two suspected terrorists were arrested by the FBI on county over from us (scary, right?).  The police said that no one was ever in immediate danger, nor were any nearby cities ever a suspected target.   BUT…the next day, when I went to take a shower, Jax had a barking fit.  Most likely, he was either barking at some birds in our front yard or some innocent passerby talking a stroll down our street that he could see out the window.  I didn’t think much about it and went on with my shower.  Then, suddenly, the barking stopped.  I couldn’t hear a thing.  Well, I conjured up this image of some terrorist breaking into the house.  Jax was probably dead and they were looking for me next.  Now wanting to be murdered while naked and fresh from the shower, I jumped out and locked the door.  (Yeah, that’ll keep them out.)  Then I hopped back in, finished my shower, and searched the bathroom for some clothes to put on.  I took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and left the safety of the bathroom to find my sweet puppy waiting patiently right outside the door.  Life returned to normal, and I wasn’t afraid of that anymore.