Fear
I’ve been struggling with my grief over Jarrett, and decided it is time to get some help. I know that my life will not be the way it was before he died, but I need to learn how to live a healthy, happy life without him, and I need to learn how to remember him.
Yesterday, I had a meeting with someone who is going to help me through this difficult time in my life. The meeting went really well, but as I reflect upon it I am really struck by how I was feeling in the moments just before the meeting.
I was very nervous. How could I not be? I was about to walk into the office of complete stranger and have to tell her about my greatest pains and how each day is a struggle. It takes a lot of courage for me to do that because I am very protective over my story, my loss, my hurt. What if she was to tell me that my problems are minor, “Do you see the world we live in, there are much bigger problems!” Or, what if she told me that I should be able to “fix” my problems on my own, and if I can’t then I’m a very weak person who does not deserve to live – let alone live a happy, healthy life.
Yeah, it seems ridiculous to think that anyone would actually say those things. But, those thoughts were at the forefront of my mind as I pulled into the parking lot of her office. There is a voice inside me that often tells me that I’m making these things up – my pain, suffering and sadness -it’s all a lie the voice says, or nobody really cares. The voice usually only speaks up when I’m about to do something in attempt to make myself healthier. I’m not sure where it comes from, but I know it is the same voice that tells me I’m not a “real” writer each time I sit down and stare at a blank page.
And even though that same voice tries to make me feel alone, I doubt I am the only person who has a “discouraging” voice, a voice that feeds us lies and tries to use fear to keep us from living the life we want.
