It is absolutely debilitating and has a death grip on me.
Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear to take a chance. Fear of change. Fear of the unknown. Fear of feeling stupid! I fear almost everything and don’t know how to break free. The crazy thing is that I never used to be this way. When I look back on my life I smile because I wasn’t afraid to do so many wonderful things and take chances. If I was afraid, I pressed through it to get over it. I’ve seen so many people become disabled by irrational fears. I vowed to never let that happen to me.
The first time I ever had a panic attack was when I was driving–alone. It scared the living daylights out of me. I seriously thought I was going to die. So was I scared to drive again? Absolutely! It lingered in the back of mind . . . What if it happens again the next time I drive? I was too strong-willed to allow that or anything else cripple me. So what now? What the hell happened to me?
My number one reason I give for not doing almost everything is: “My kids.” I have to think about my kids. I have to think about their well-being. I have to put their best interests at heart. But is that really what I’m doing? I’m beginning to think that my “I have to think about my kids” outlook may just well be a scapegoat. So what if my kids don’t have the material things they have now. Big whoop if our new home isn’t what they have now. I’m afraid they will blame me for taking them away from their dad, home, friends, school, etc. I fear my best won’t be good enough. What if I fail them? I’m afraid they will hate me.
You see, my oldest daughter moved out two years ago to live with her dad. She didn’t move just around the corner or even in the same town. She moved over 50 miles away. Not real easy to see her anytime I wanted with a distance like that. Only death can compare to the hurt I felt. I cried daily for months and still do sometimes. She hated me for quite some time because I cracked down on her bad behavior. She thought her dad was a pushover, so he was the better alternative in her eyes. She now regrets that decision and we have the best mother-daughter relationship one could ask for. But when we were going through our toughest times and I knew that I was an embarrassment to her and that she really disliked me–it hurt. I pay close attention to other parents or just people in general. I would envy those mothers that would brush off their kids attitude as “just being a teenager” like it was no big deal. Maybe I’m just odd. I don’t know. But for me, it cuts right through the heart when it comes to my children. I don’t know if I could handle losing any more of my children. They’re all I’ve got!