On Fear

I have been advised to write to exorcise my fear.  My primal fear.  My ever-present fear.  My one eye closed, tentatively waiting for the other boot to drop fear.  My fear of not having enough, of not being enough.  Of being wrong; not acceptable, crude, callous or unkind - ugly.

I feel belittled.

I feel purposeless, lost, abandoned.

I feel overwhelmed.

I feel scared.

I feel buffeted, nothing in my control.  Unable to make a difference.

Helpless, hopeless and dead.

I react with hurt, sadness,frustration and pervasive grief.  All under the surface - unrequited, unanswered.

Tears are to be managed.

Hurt is to be denied.

Sadness is to be plastered over with scratch and sniff stickers and Bonnebelle lip smackers.

Nothing is wrong, all is well if I'm not present.

Author's Note

any comments are welcome