Tag Archives: Fear

The 20 Year Reunion Part 1 – the fear of violence

About six months ago the anxiety surfaced after someone added me to a newly created Facebook group for the 1991 St. Malachy’s High School Graduating Class 20 Year Reunion. Fear ebbed through my body when it happened.

While high school was everything everybody always says it is, it’s not always what people see that is important but that of what people don’t know that comes to light and must be dealt with in an honest, empathetic and forgiving manner.

The first taste of physical violence I ever experienced as a female being targeted by a male was in grade three. A good female friend of mine, who is still a good friend of mine to this day, had a fight with me, well a fight as best as two nine year old girls can have at yelling and pulling each others hair on a front lawn. Kids fight. Good friends fight. BUT her older brother came out the front door. He was 13 years old and twice my size. He kicked me in the legs. He kicked me really hard and proceeded to harass and maim me all through elementary and middle school whenever he saw me walking on the sidewalk alone. He’d surround, throw rocks and worked very hard at intimidating me for years.

Violence from that day forward seemed to follow and engulf me. It wasn’t until I moved away from Saint John at age 19 that the violence that men cast on me ceased to exist which brings me to the 20 year reunion that I attended on Saturday night. Continue reading

I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism yesterday or why I’m really not that crazy after all

And I’ve never felt more panicked in my life. All the other medical diagnoses I’ve had over the years never made me feel more vulnerable than this one and perhaps it’s because I didn’t even see it coming or suspect it or request that I be tested for it.

I went into the doctor for my regular yearly pap smear back in late October and also requested that my iron and B12 levels be checked. He suggested a full blood work up and checked about 20 things.

My brain is so full of questions as I try to discern what caused this…
Is it the soy I ate?
Is it the wine I drank?
Is it the walnuts I ate?
Do I even have ADHD and could it have been hypothyroidism all along?
Is it the constant stress?
Is it all the PCB’s in everything?
Is it age?
Is it the amalgam fillings in my teeth?
Is it the fluoride in the water?
Is it hereditary or genetic?
Is it the Pepsi?

Or is it that women are like honey bees and we are sensitive to all these things and no one cause can ever be pinpointed as it is the bio-accumulative effect of all things. Continue reading

Gonna Crack

Distinguishing Fear from Excitement

They feel similar physically. Mentally however, one is threatening and the other invigorating.

I walked one day past a decade old park in the neighborhood staring at the WW1 canon perched ominously atop the hill. I continued onwards to the convenience store in search of smokes. On my way back I looked into the park seeing benches barely used and paths grown over with grass having rarely felt the touch of human feet. Fear hit me in the face. Excitement pounded in my chest. Oh Good God I said, walk into the fucking park. I walk fast to a bench. Sit. Do nothing. Not breathing… Dammit. Switch benches.

I jaunt to the central most bench, perch my bag up as a pillow and lay down telling myself not to leave this park until I feel safe. Safe from what? The zooming cars to one side or the giant scary ROSE bush beside me. Sitting up I take the packaging off my smokes and dig through my bag for a light. I put my pillow back in place, lay down, legs relaxing with feet firmly planted on either side of the bench. I puff. I inhale, exhaling smoke rings.

This bench is of hard concrete, aged over the past 10 years. It would sit two comfortably in any direction as it has no back, no arm rests nor corners. A bent oval like two hands facing each other joined at the wrist reaching in opposite directions flattened for sitting.

I put the cigarette out. I turn to my side. Seriously this fear has got to go away. I look at the cars declaring I hate them for being noisy. I flip to the other side now facing the hill of grass. I smell roses. The noise stopped. I rolled on my back and stared at the sky. I watched the clouds, lifted my legs up, bent them feet to bench and closed my eyes.

The moral of the story:
Always stop to to smell the scary roses.

Enjoy experience, laugh and leave it behind

“Fear drives an artist” She says to me.
I could not respond.

This lead me to thinking about what we had discussed on/from last Wednesday evening, to today. What do you think? Artists are not unlike any other creature. We are creatures of habit and observation. We place deeply feelings of others within ourselves regardless of it’s content. True also for memories, places, people and things. We tend not to forget yet when something is remembered it can take time for us to sort the pieces out to re-create it in our own understanding. An artist remembers, he sees and fortells through art creation. We are not soothsayers but posess some clairvoyance. We are not any weirder than you. We just express it 3-dimensionaly to see, hear, touch, interact or listen with.

And you know, yes, it could be, that, fear drives us to create.

We are the sensitive ones. The ones who love passionately and the ones who mourn with no shame. We know you. We see it. We do not inherently judge it. We are kind. We are crazy. Ok this is making me laugh. I feel like this has become a song and the question has arizen of whether to post or not post as I write this?

And one other thing!


Enjoy experience but leave it behind.
In the centre of that transition, turbulance combusts.
When the body and mind join
that is the true state of being.
All the fumes have evaporated
all the wounds healed
you talked to death
and faced yourself
you are a human being.

Don’t you realize the light at the end of the tunnel is yourself? Have you not fallen asleep and in the midst of that special time before you are asleep yet, not quite awake, you begin to see a tunnel. You are flying through a tube of many colors in a universe awash with stars. It twists and it turns as you spiral onwards beginning to look for the end. I reached it a few times. I saw this woman in disguise. She came to focus and said hello. We smiled and disapeared together.

Many times during my life has this similar remembered subconscious realization occurred, from early childhood onwards to now. All of us have distinct unusual brains. How wonderful.

and I hit [Publish]

In my anger I did not even title this post and have come back to write this as the title.

As a young child I retreated to my bedroom to under the blankets into my bubble. The bubble was my world where I could not get hurt, where I could look out and quietly ponder all that was reality without fear of attack because my ideas were not those of the norm. I just stepped out of that bubble moments ago again remembering, thinking, unable to focus on anything but drops of water creating rings as they landed on the inside of my eylids chrystaline clear. I am tired of being misunderstood.

Continue reading

Mangling Causality

Sometimes people place fault, pass blame or simply fabricate something wrong with a person(s) when they want to leave a certain situation. Rather than trusting their own judgement, their [tag]cognitive[/tag] behavior tricks them into thinking they lack the ability to leave on their own merit. This simple idea had never entered my mind until yesterday sitting with my councillor in her office. I had been speaking to her about my attendance at Daytox and my thoughts that those employed there were tired of me and that I was picking up wierd vibes from them. How ingenious my mind has become at mangling causality; I have simply outgrown the services Daytox provides, save for the Benzodiazapine support group. Daytox and those who work there have done no wrong nor harm to me.

Why would I even think that they are out to get me? Where did I learn this [tag]behavior[/tag]? Why did everything slow down within my councillors office while she was directly speaking to me about this? The words left her mouth travelled into my ears and my brain understood. What the fuck? I actually reiterated “Yes, I think you could be right.” A little voice inside was quietly protesting “No, no, don’t believe her” but, I did. Time literally stopped.

All of a sudden I understood. What do I understand? I have the right to choose. I have been afraid to choose. I have the ability to choose not to attend Daytox without fear of being punished. Who would punish me if I don’t attend? No one at Daytox. Then who? It’s all in my mind; an [tag]allegory[/tag] developed and finely tuned over time to protect what’s mine. Whoah!

[tag]Anger[/tag] has a way of mysteriously seeping from humans. Out of fear, we react. We could scream, we cry, laugh, lie, hit, freeze, chase, shun or even die in the face of fear. Fear is our reflection in the mirrior. [tag]Fear[/tag] is assuming you have lost control. Fear is akin to addiction. [tag]Addiction[/tag] mothers the child lost. And being lost is lonely.

This lightbulb switched on yesterday. How can something be learned and understood so instantaniously? It almost felt like taking a [tag]drug[/tag] for the first time. I still feel the efftects today. Thank you Councillor A.

I left her office and proceeded to walk home. I walked and walked down streets through parks and an apparently abandonned mini amphitheatre that appeared to be used for worshipping oranges. There were orange peelings everywhere. It bordered a busy thouroughfare called Clark Drive and was close to a skytrain station. I sat down to rest creating stories up about the citrus loving people who come here to worship the God of Orange. I smoked a cigarette then continued exploring my way home using the northern mountains as my guide I diagonalled through the East Side.

Raw emotion – distilled into water?

There lives fear everywhere. It’s installed in us when we each are born. This installation learns. In it’s truest and earliest form, fear was an instinct. An instinct such as hunger, and the need for warmth when it was cold; fear kept you safe. Fear is no longer fear. It is Phobic.

I need to think on this longer. I’ll post more later today.

Green Stop Sign

I thought on this longer and became more phobic. Fuck. Now at 20 minutes to midnight I can say I feel calmer. Where did the phobia begin today? Yesterday. And Yesterday’s fear was carried over from the day before’s fear. So now that this fear has been cubed and diced where does that leave me? Laughing. Phobic fear is just that – phobia. It is irrational in most peoples eyes. However, when experiencing phobia one can become quite disabled.

I could not function today. I woke up this morning screaming out loud from a lucid nightmare. It’s not often that I’ve screamed myself awake. Today I did. And yesterday for that matter I had another disturbing dream. These dreams are so vivid and lucid. I’ve not yet manged to completely control them. The dreams I’ve been having since cleaning up 203 days ago have been all consuming at times involving people, places and experiences from my present and past. Inter tangled enlightenment’s of the soul perhaps? There are messages my subconscious is attempting to make conscious to me. This could be called the link between the soul and the body. The drawing to the left I drew after one such dream. I had been hit in the head by an usher at a wedding with a green stop sign in the dream, as I began to walk down the isle as a bridesmaid without bouquet in hand.

When the two (soul & mind) work as one, a person is in the ‘NOW’. There is no past, nor future, just the moment, he or she is experiencing. Having experienced these moments of complete clarity with and without drugs, I must say they are both beautiful and unexplainable in words. I have attempted to draw and paint them. However as soon as I would think – POOF – the moment is gone and I’m in the past or the future again.

The past is to depression what the future is to anxiety. The best way to know something is to experience it. Once your brain experiences it, whatever it may be; the brain will remember that experience with the emotions you felt during that experience. The brain doesn’t know the difference between past and future. When you get up in the morning say, and drink your coffee you probably associate waking up and being more alert with the coffee. Your mind is craving that feeling not the coffee. It’s a hard one to wrap your head around eh?

Now to take it a step further… When someone becomes addicted to a feeling what happens?

Their brain pretty much short circuits and rewires itself in such a way, that it needs the feeling or it will go into withdrawal. The extent of withdrawal would be dependent upon how much the brain needed the feeling to feel normal. Most addicts would say that they don’t get high anymore, that they are in fact just maintaining a normal so they don’t go into withdrawal. The ‘high’ has become normal. And when the normal cannot be achieved the brain along with the physical body begins to go down, down, down to what the average person would call normal. Are you still with me? So picture your worst, sickest, saddest and angriest day ever and multiply it by lets say 10. That is what real “normal” feels like to an addict when they withdraw from a substance.

After withdrawal all that the brain knows is raw emotion. Happiness times 10. Sadness times 10. Anger times 10. Fear times 10. Disgust times 10. You feel every emotion times 10. Your senses are heightened beyond what you ever thought possible. Light hurts your eyes. Traffic noise hurts. Advertisements sicken you. Colour stands out. A hair tickles your back and you jump! Bad memories cloud your mind like they happened today. They feel like they are happening right now.

But beautiful little things begin to happen gradually. I remember looking down at my paintbrush about 10 days into detox and just watching the water drip off the tip off the paintbrush into the rinse can. The sound fascinated me. Somehow my brain had blocked out all the other noise and distraction and all I heard and saw was the drip. I cried. I was happy. This was a moment with no past nor future.

I would recommend to anyone in search of understanding rent the movie What the Bleep? and also check outDr. Masaru Emoto’s website! The research he has done with water in how it affects every one of us in relation to our emotions is brilliant. We are, remember 90% water.

The days I watched these three movies will be forever with me. My brain I hope will remember the feelings generated by their visual, auditory gift. Drinking a glass of water has never been the same after seeing Dr. Masaru Emoto’s video.

You know, fear is the exact same as excitement. I’m terrified on a roller coaster where another person is excited beyond belief.