JP ShawThere's a Boogeyman under my Bed.
Okay not actually. I mean I haven't poked my head beneath the bed and physically seen the ugly monster I'm referring to. I'm talking about the things that scare me, which lately seem to come out at night like a ghost waiting in the wings to attack. And last night was no exception. Once again I found myself lying next to my husband, listening to the strange sounds of the house as I desperately tried removing the flashing negativity swirling through my brain long enough so I could close I my eyes and find dreamland.
I think about it a lot... DEATH. I think about losing my kids, and picture the different ways. I know morbid. I've been a bit of an odd bird. I can't help it though. It just comes, creeping into my brain images of them getting hit by a car, someone taking them, attacking and hurting them. My eight year old falls out of tree and lands to his death. My two year old pokes both his eyes out after falling on the edge of the coffee table. It's the kind of stuff that keeps my eyes wide open and bloodshot the next morning, and something I cannot simply just shove away immediately from minds eye. And I begin to wonder ... HOW DEEPLY AM I REALLY LIVING? Or am I just a ghost in the night haunting myself to death?
This is true. There's no better remedy for the Boogeyman then to go outside and enjoy yourself. Where we live there is a park within our co-op and often I will take the kids. Watching Trace fly down the slides and seeing him climb the stairs for the first time when we were told he wouldn't walk until after his second birthday. It's truly remarkable and forces me to focus on the simple things.
Children are so happy -- without fear. Fear doesn't play a role in their lives when they make decisions. When my son climbs that ladder and stands perched up high above the yellow slide he doesn't worry about falling the way I do. He just closes his eyes and leaps. I think that kind of freedom is something we learn to forget as adults. It's a shame really.
I'm not quite sure DH would agree that's why we argue over who locked the car keys in the trunk while shopping. But it's true. My days are filled with empty holes to which my creative juices are tired and locked away with anxiety chaining me to a wall.
Taking care of someone sick, someone with disabilities and then having disabilities yourself can cause an illusion of living. Many days I feel I am floating along, not really here. Like a robot without that chip to process my motivation to get my butt off the sofa and exercise, or paint with my kids, or go for that simply walk where the air is so crisp you just know you can't ignore it's goal to help make you feel alive.
Over ten years ago I got robbed while working in a convenient store. A man walked in with a gun, put it to my temple and asked for all the money. I was scared to death. A customer walked in and startled the robber and he dropped his gun, but not before his words rang through my ears for me to kiss my ($#%@) goodbye.
I use to day dream about getting robbed every day I walked to work. I use to try to remember what the man looked liked. What he wore and said were important, along with my reaction to the situation. I was afraid. To this day I tell people it's funny but getting robbed was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I'm not longer afraid of guns or people who use them. I suppose it's because I was forced to face that fear of what would happen if the situation ever arose and how would I respond?
I cannot help the survival instincts within myself. Each of us has them. When the boogeyman comes for me, I plan and stradegize the best options for dealing with him. I often dream about someone breaking into my home, coming after our things. I do not worry about our stuff, but my mind plays through each scenario on how to exit the building. Who would grab the baby? Our oldest son? And how would we deal with the situation?
I know it's terrible, the anxiety of something that hasn't yet revealed itself as even a possibility. This is why I don't watch the news. It buggers up my brain and causes DH to grumble while I lay awake poking him because my brain is unable to rest peacefully.
This is probably why my BOOGEYMAN scares me. His shadow at times can be HUGE. But I know I'm bigger and stronger. I know life is more worth living then being afraid. I know that I cannot control what lurks in the shadows or around each corner as I continue to thrive in all the blessings I've been given without guilt interfering or the fear of losing it all hindering my mind's creativity and my hearts ability to love openly. I know this. Yet what lurks under the bed can be more terrifying to me than any scary tale I could ever imagine.
Still....
It's okay to be afraid I suppose. It's just not okay to allow that fear to control your life, let alone your ability to wake up feeling refreshed without feeling as though you haven't rested in a decade. I need to ask my BOOGEYMAN over for coffee, face him with a bright smile and an enthusiastic awareness that he is a guest in my mind and I can refuse to visit him if I want to because I have better things to do--like enjoying my life.
Anais Nin:
" People living deeply have no fear of death."
" People living deeply have no fear of death."
I think about it a lot... DEATH. I think about losing my kids, and picture the different ways. I know morbid. I've been a bit of an odd bird. I can't help it though. It just comes, creeping into my brain images of them getting hit by a car, someone taking them, attacking and hurting them. My eight year old falls out of tree and lands to his death. My two year old pokes both his eyes out after falling on the edge of the coffee table. It's the kind of stuff that keeps my eyes wide open and bloodshot the next morning, and something I cannot simply just shove away immediately from minds eye. And I begin to wonder ... HOW DEEPLY AM I REALLY LIVING? Or am I just a ghost in the night haunting myself to death?
Anne Frank:
"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature."
"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature."
This is true. There's no better remedy for the Boogeyman then to go outside and enjoy yourself. Where we live there is a park within our co-op and often I will take the kids. Watching Trace fly down the slides and seeing him climb the stairs for the first time when we were told he wouldn't walk until after his second birthday. It's truly remarkable and forces me to focus on the simple things.
Children are so happy -- without fear. Fear doesn't play a role in their lives when they make decisions. When my son climbs that ladder and stands perched up high above the yellow slide he doesn't worry about falling the way I do. He just closes his eyes and leaps. I think that kind of freedom is something we learn to forget as adults. It's a shame really.
Gay Hendricks:
"One of the first things a relationship therapist learns is that couples argue to burn up energy that could be used for something else. In fact, arguments often serve the purpose of using up energy, so that the couple do not have to take the courageous, creative leap into an unknown they fear. Arguing serves the function of being a zone of familiarity into which you can retreat when you are afraid of making a creative breakthrough."
"One of the first things a relationship therapist learns is that couples argue to burn up energy that could be used for something else. In fact, arguments often serve the purpose of using up energy, so that the couple do not have to take the courageous, creative leap into an unknown they fear. Arguing serves the function of being a zone of familiarity into which you can retreat when you are afraid of making a creative breakthrough."
I'm not quite sure DH would agree that's why we argue over who locked the car keys in the trunk while shopping. But it's true. My days are filled with empty holes to which my creative juices are tired and locked away with anxiety chaining me to a wall.
Taking care of someone sick, someone with disabilities and then having disabilities yourself can cause an illusion of living. Many days I feel I am floating along, not really here. Like a robot without that chip to process my motivation to get my butt off the sofa and exercise, or paint with my kids, or go for that simply walk where the air is so crisp you just know you can't ignore it's goal to help make you feel alive.
Hannah Arendt:
" Fear is an emotion indispensable for survival."
" Fear is an emotion indispensable for survival."
Over ten years ago I got robbed while working in a convenient store. A man walked in with a gun, put it to my temple and asked for all the money. I was scared to death. A customer walked in and startled the robber and he dropped his gun, but not before his words rang through my ears for me to kiss my ($#%@) goodbye.
I use to day dream about getting robbed every day I walked to work. I use to try to remember what the man looked liked. What he wore and said were important, along with my reaction to the situation. I was afraid. To this day I tell people it's funny but getting robbed was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I'm not longer afraid of guns or people who use them. I suppose it's because I was forced to face that fear of what would happen if the situation ever arose and how would I respond?
I cannot help the survival instincts within myself. Each of us has them. When the boogeyman comes for me, I plan and stradegize the best options for dealing with him. I often dream about someone breaking into my home, coming after our things. I do not worry about our stuff, but my mind plays through each scenario on how to exit the building. Who would grab the baby? Our oldest son? And how would we deal with the situation?
I know it's terrible, the anxiety of something that hasn't yet revealed itself as even a possibility. This is why I don't watch the news. It buggers up my brain and causes DH to grumble while I lay awake poking him because my brain is unable to rest peacefully.
Swedish proverb:
"Worry gives a small thing a big shadow."
"Worry gives a small thing a big shadow."
This is probably why my BOOGEYMAN scares me. His shadow at times can be HUGE. But I know I'm bigger and stronger. I know life is more worth living then being afraid. I know that I cannot control what lurks in the shadows or around each corner as I continue to thrive in all the blessings I've been given without guilt interfering or the fear of losing it all hindering my mind's creativity and my hearts ability to love openly. I know this. Yet what lurks under the bed can be more terrifying to me than any scary tale I could ever imagine.
Still....
William Allen White:
"I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today."
"I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today."
It's okay to be afraid I suppose. It's just not okay to allow that fear to control your life, let alone your ability to wake up feeling refreshed without feeling as though you haven't rested in a decade. I need to ask my BOOGEYMAN over for coffee, face him with a bright smile and an enthusiastic awareness that he is a guest in my mind and I can refuse to visit him if I want to because I have better things to do--like enjoying my life.
JP Shaw
When your BOOGEYMAN visits what fears does he bring? What makes you feel afraid?
When your BOOGEYMAN visits what fears does he bring? What makes you feel afraid?
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