Saturday, 4 March 2023

Fear.



Fear. An overwhelming emotion I’ve had all my life. At the age of 72, fear still invades my mind, even though I rarely leave my apartment in an attempt to not risk being afraid and acting strange in public. But of course, in your apartment you can fear all the things that haven’t happened yet, but surely will. You can fear you aren’t being a good enough wife, mother and grandmother. You can fear you aren’t a good enough Christian, that there is always more you could do for God and for people. You can look back on your life and fear it was mostly a waste.

I know where this fear comes from. When I was two years old, my father beat me black and blue because I would cry at night and not go to sleep. (He told me this himself). He sexually abused me until I was 10. My sister told me she wished she could kill me. She said she’d love to put a pillow over my face and smother me. This is how I learned to fear my family.

When I was very young, my sister told me the Japanese neighbors, who lived across the street, poisoned children with soup. She warned me never to go near their house. So, I learned to fear neighbors. In first grade, I had a teacher who would whip the boys with tree branches. We could hear their screams from the room beside us. So, I learned to fear school. When we visited my grandparents in Los Angeles, my sister told me not to walk down alleys because men would put a bucket over my head and drive nails through it. So, I learned to be afraid in large cities.

I feared God. I was raised in a fundamentalist church and there was a lot of talk about sin. It was pounded into us that any sin at all was horrible. I wanted to be a Christian, but I knew I could never, ever be that good. When I did come to Jesus at 19, whenever I sinned I expected God to kill me. I’m still a Christian and I know better now.

I was crippled by fear. I remember when I was 6 I had to walk a far bit to school. I would drag the toes of my shoes along sidewalk, wearing them out, because I didn’t want to go. I also dragged my shoes on the way home. There was a railroad track between the school and home. I loved watching the trains as they sped by. I loved looking at them when they were just sitting there. My desire was to jump on one that would take me far away. But to where? I didn’t know.

High school was a particular kind of fear. When I started grade 10, I didn’t know anyone at the school. I hid in a stall in the bathroom at lunchtime for three months. I finally met a nice girl and we were friends for a time. I made other friends, but the friendships never lasted more than six months. Even now, I don’t know why.

Dating was a nightmare. I was so afraid on dates I couldn’t speak. I had some really cool guys ask me out, but I was horribly boring. In order to enjoy my company, the guy would have had to be a non-stop talker. (My first husband. Lol)

I found out boys always wanted to touch you. I didn’t find it hard to say no. The first time a boy tried to take my bra off I said, “What are you doing?” I really didn’t know. I figured it out. My father hated me dating and called me a slut. I was a virgin. I dated a boy once and he told everyone I was easy and he screwed me. A lie. After that, I didn’t care too much about staying a virgin. I lost that status after I was date-raped. Not that I knew what it was. I had passed out from drinking and woke up by being thrown on the bed, my clothes taken off and then him inside me. To be honest, he was very good looking and I liked being wanted by him. There was blood on the bed, and he asked in horror, “Are you a virgin?” I told him I was. I think he was ashamed of what he did, but I don’t really know. Any time I saw him at school, he looked away.

Grade 11 I decided to run away from home and go to San Francisco because that’s where the hippie movement was located. My father caught me stealing money from his wallet in the middle of the night. I told my parents how unhappy I was. They decided to send me to Canada to stay with relatives. I was happy to get away and that is where I married my first husband. (The one who never stops talking. He is still like that, and it’s strange that even now when I see him, I feel a warmth for him. I’m afraid no one else likes him because they say he is narcissistic.)

Okay, I have explained why I have this fear inside me. I have been to therapy a few times and it helped me very much. I went to anxiety groups. I began to understand why I do what I do, but none of that took my fear away. I tried to get a university degree, and I did make it through 2 years with high grades, but my mental illness got in the way and I quit.

Most jobs I tried were over in one day because of my fear. My second husband is very understanding. Living on one wage most of our marriage has been close to impossible, but he never complains. I still apologize to him because I’ve felt guilty about how hard life has been for us. I did do some babysitting and I worked as a janitor for a year. This was to buy school clothes for our two daughters.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess I wanted to let people know why some people are afraid, why some people can’t work, even though they are intelligent and look normal. I wanted to let people know this kind of fear is a mental illness. I want Christians to know that even though a fearful person prays about it, sometimes the fear never leaves.

C.S. Lewis told a friend who had a mental illness to realize it is like losing a leg. God isn’t going to grow the leg back, but he will help you live without it. I can attest to that. God has given me the greatest comfort, joy and love than any person has given me. He is amazing. My biggest problem is sometimes forgetting to talk with him about my feelings and worries. I do it, but I want to do it every time I’m upset about anything and many times I forget.

Jesus said, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, about what you will eat, drink or wear. Each day has problems of its own.” He promised we don’t need to fear because he is with us. Paul wrote, “Have no anxiety about anything, but with petitions and prayers, with thanksgiving, make your requests to God and the peace that passes all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” I repeat these verses to myself and they always help.

I didn’t know that when you become a Christian, you would still have problems in your life that don’t go away quickly. In fact, you may have to pray about that problem until Jesus comes back or you die. I wish I had known that in the beginning of my walk with God, but I didn’t, so I keep marching on knowing God loves me just as I am.