loathing fear

i have no idea where the term 'fear and loathing' came from, google is not very helpful at this point in the morning. liam's restlessness drove me from our bed, maybe with me out he will sleep more fully. i know i wasn't.

but i awoke with those words running through my brain. i tried to curl up on the sofa and exorcise them from my mind, to no avail, so here i am at 3:00 a.m. using this keyboard to process them so i may find some elusive rest before dawn.

i truly loathe fear. i hate it's powerlessness. i abhor the way it weakens every part of me. to sit with fear seems foolish to me, overpowering, childlike. to sit with fear reduces me to that six year old who's nightmares of the cowardly lion, the tin man and the scarecrow hovering over my bed would reduce me to a puddle of wet sheets and shaking shivers.

it seems insane to me, to sit with fear. fear brings powerlessness. anger empowers me, sadness comforts me - fear? fear removes every corner that holds the roof over my head. it kicks at the structures of everything i've built. it terrorizes me.

i cannot fathom those to whom fear is the primary emotion that they filter every negative feeling through. who chooses to feel so inadequate to face the day? i'd rather have the curl into a ball kind of sadness that withdraws me from the world, or the snorting, stamping empowerment anger brings. but this frozen state of fear, no thank you. in our conversations recently liam and i have found that he is this person. he hides it so well, so far from anyone's view. i've known him for 20 years and i am only seeing the edges of it now. my heart aches for his journey.

we are both walking through our own shadows of death in our own way. i hate that. buck and pink deserve to have one parent right now who isn't paralyzed by fear. it isn't evident, yet, but isn't that what fear is all about? those horrible free floating anxieties that loom spectre like in the backs of our minds. what if.... when will... how can...

in just over a month i will celebrate my five year sobriety/abstinence anniversary. i am terrified that walking this path will shatter that peace, that the fear will drive back my addictions to comfort me as i feel these feelings and long to numb the pain they bring.

i just finished the book blankets by craig thompson, because of the recommendation of jeremy. it is a graphic novel (ie. comic book style), but don't be fooled. the truth it holds is shocking and bold. graphic in the true sense of the word. two brothers raised in a cold wisconsin farm house, so very similar to my own. the main character's journey into his teen years is filled with miscommunicated 'truth', looming terror and subjection to the whims of those more powerful than he. it laid bare my own past in a way that i was unprepared for. the imagery gave illustration to my own coming of age.

i had no raina though, no savior figure to carry me from my pain. to blanket me with love. i quilted my own blankets of comfort instead. my addictions.

it is those blankets that create the deepest loathing of fear within me today. i no longer desire their false comfort or want their costly warmth. but they are so familiar, and i am shaking with fear and shivering from the cold that this terror now brings to my life.

where are my new blankets? what are those things that can create the warmth i need to comfort me through these shadowed nights?