Friday, April 26, 2013
i'm scared of spiders. man, like, my heart races and i start to salivate in a not-hungry way and i have to move really fast in order to accomodate the adrenalin. i can't really save face in front of my children anymore, although i like to talk about my fear and so i think they get to see me processing and so all is not lost, on the parenting front. i also don't feel that killing them is an option, as my personal 'right to life' applies to all and everything. (except mosquitos, damnit.) clearly, i am morally problematic.
this week it happened that there was a large, very large, arachnid in the kitchen that was big enough for the cat to simply sit and watch it... she'll kill mice, but not this thing, if you get my drift. it had a walk, for instance, a lumbering gait that took it underneath the cabinet, in the end. and i had two opportunities to run from his/her company in the presence of my children. two. I didn't put the baby down in its company in order to better run, I didn't cry, I just realized that in order to capture the spider i would need to get far too close to the spider...and I completely left the room. in hopes, i tell myself, that the cat would pounce or that the manspider would find his own way to the door.
but. that kind of fear is exhilerating, heart-pounding, perhaps sweat-inducing, but exciting. so exciting in the face of my daily motions about the house and in child-care. an utter change to the pace.
and then, there is fear.
not exciting. and far less 'simple'. . . and i think, almost always, based on something that we think we have 'put away' somewhere else. perhaps a childhood hurt, a marital splinter, a teenaged slight, a real trauma. it ain't no joke, and seems to find it overwhelmingly simple to overwhelm, in the moment. fear can cause many emotions too, in our need to avoid the underlying issues. in myself, i frequently find myself angry, when a flash of fear came first. i'm very good at ducking, finding anger some sort of release.
*none of these are casual, zipped through, they are utterly real and once written, i can argue every single one of them into non-existence. but i have to do that, i have to argue, every time i feel them. they are upsetting, and if i don't have the 'space' to argue them, they can make me insane and driven to despair.
i'm afraid I don't love my people enough.
i'm afraid the love that I do have isn't enough, to save them, to do right by them, isn't really 'love', but some byproduct of responsibility and tenderness.
i'm afraid my husband scorns me.
i'm afraid when i think 'i'd be better off without him'.
i'm afraid that my kids won't think well of me when they are grown ups, this woman that i am.
i'm afraid I might not exist outside of the laundry room, in this family, in this marriage.
i'm afraid people only see me as my husband's wife.
i'm afraid I only see myself as someone's wife.
i'm afraid to hurt him when he reads this.
i'm afraid my heart is going to atrophy, because i'm holding it too tight, and soon it will be 'too late'.
i'm afraid that people only like me because i do stuff for them. or smile at them. i have a smile that makes people think everything is allright. suckers.
i'm afraid people humor and tolerate me and that is it.
i'm afraid i can't think anymore, with any depth. maybe i never could.
i'm afraid i am a sham.