"There is no satisfaction in the fulfillment of a fear. Instead it makes you question everything. It makes you see the people you love strung delicately on a strand of web, vulnerable to be broken off with a casual sweep of a hand. It makes you feel unsafe, exposed, and out of control."
- Eve in "Reflections on a Year"
I hadn't planned to mention anything else depressing, but then today Eve went
and posted that. And it summed up so perfectly what I've been feeling these last
several months that I had to throw it back out there as a sort of
explanation.
You see, thanks to the last year or so, I now have a huge, irrational fear of losing Micah or Todd or someone else I love. Although I'm working very very hard to overcome it, it's been a definite struggle. For instance, when I freak out at Todd because I can't get in touch with him for hours because he's put his stupid-ass iPhone on silent and left it there again, and instead of thinking "duh, he's left his phone on silent," I jump immediately to imagining him and Micah dead in a car accident, and then when he finally calls me back, I find myself yelling, "Oh hi, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU, ASSHOLE." Yeah, that's kind of why. Less amusing are the nightmares, the moments of panic, and the crippling self-doubt when dealing with things like minor childhood illnesses.
I figure at some point I'm going to stop looking over my shoulder for the universe-sized boot aimed squarely at my vulnerable backside. One day I'll regain the confidence to, say, handle a high fever in my sleeping child without the every-10-minute breathing check. But until then, yes, THAT.
You see, thanks to the last year or so, I now have a huge, irrational fear of losing Micah or Todd or someone else I love. Although I'm working very very hard to overcome it, it's been a definite struggle. For instance, when I freak out at Todd because I can't get in touch with him for hours because he's put his stupid-ass iPhone on silent and left it there again, and instead of thinking "duh, he's left his phone on silent," I jump immediately to imagining him and Micah dead in a car accident, and then when he finally calls me back, I find myself yelling, "Oh hi, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU, ASSHOLE." Yeah, that's kind of why. Less amusing are the nightmares, the moments of panic, and the crippling self-doubt when dealing with things like minor childhood illnesses.
I figure at some point I'm going to stop looking over my shoulder for the universe-sized boot aimed squarely at my vulnerable backside. One day I'll regain the confidence to, say, handle a high fever in my sleeping child without the every-10-minute breathing check. But until then, yes, THAT.
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