fear

Fear is powerful.
Fear is complex.
Facing fear is terrifying.

Like it or not, I've come to realize that my life revolves around and thrives on fear. And by fear, I don't mean the scaredy-cat, fear of heights or clowns. Although I have been known to cringe at the sight of Bozo and I hate to fly. My familiar fear becomes an all encompassing reality that plays on my emotions. But, I also welcome fear when it serves as a beneficial catalyst, kicking my butt into gear. Fear of the unknown makes me work harder in a positive direction, just so I don't go to THAT place of unknown.

Even as a kid, fear motivated me. I always tried to please my parents so I wouldn't get into trouble. My Dad was hard on my 2 older brothers, I never wanted that wrath bestowed upon me. Being the youngest, I took lots of notes from their mistakes to avoid the same fate. I worked hard in school to get good grades, for fear of retribution if I didn't. I always had a fear of a higher power, showering me with reckoning consequences from any bad behavior. So, I tried to be a good girl. Hmmmm. Ha!

As I matured, fear took an unconcious back seat living my rebellious teen years, no fear lifestyle. I quickly realized that kind of life was not for me, got married @ 21, had 2 babies. Fear was absent and replaced with pregnancies, building a family and happiness until my CF diagnosis @ 25. That was a devastating, real life mortality fear. My mind became overwhelmed with unknown questions of what was ahead. Will I survive the one year the Doc gave me to live? Will it be painful? Will I ever live to see my babies grow up?

As time marched on, I realized that my CF was not going to kill me in the near future. As life calmed down and I regained health, my fears and questions for myself subsided. I was too busy raising my kids to worry about fear for myself. Fear was reserved for anything directed at my kids, whether it be physical or emotional. My personal displaced fears were piled into their well being, keeping them safe. I know I failed miserably, protecting at least Jen from emotional fear. At times she was overcome with the 'what if's' of life. She has done that since day 1, always asking me an outrageous 'what if' questions of some catastrophic event that would never happen. For instance, "what if the sky turned yellow, rained for a year and we all drowned." I went through a lot of years of trying to reassure her as a little girl, that no, this or that would not happen. I would wonder where the heck these irrational, unreasonable fears, were coming from. Wild imagination or real fear? *shrugs*

Divorce from my kid's Dad, started the BIG FEAR monster raging, out of control. How on earth am I going to support me and my kids by myself? How can I be Mother and Father? How can my son have a positive man, Father role model when his own Dad was mostly absent? How can I reassure my kids that everything was going to be OK when I didn't even feel it myself? How am I going to do this, period! Not to mention the real life, painful fear my kids suffered as a result of their Dad leaving. He will never know the depth to which his decisions shaped them. To this day, that fear is still present and being dealt with . . . I don't think it will EVER go away.

Gradually, over the years, my fear has reappeared in a different way, a good way, front and center in my life. Fear motivates me to climb out of denial and face what needs to be done medically and healthwise. I unconsciously hold fear close to me, within reach, constantly reminding me of consequences of what could be if I'm not a compliant, take charge CFer.

I fear for my loved ones, not knowing the impact CF will inflict on them. I fear for Terry, someday becoming my caregiver, a role he has signed up for by being my husband. A loving man who has assured me, that he is not going anywhere but to be by my side to the end. That is such a comfort. I fear for my kids, not wanting pain for them seeing me progress downhill, so I hide it when I can. I fear for my littlest grandbabies, that they will remember me. I try hard to create fun memories, so they can say, "I remember, Grandee loved me."

I fear physical pain, but I don't fear death. To me, death is my escape when life on earth goes from bad to worse to unbearable. I know I'll be in a much better place without pain or fear and able to breathe again.

For now, I recognize my fears and welcome them as a part of my life.
Good and bad.
From beginning to end.