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.
