A Little Less Fear

This year I’m starting totally over. To some people that wouldn’t seem like a big deal at all- or exciting, even- and for many, at 36, heading swiftly toward 37, the thought would be paralyzing. I’ll admit, for a very long time- years in fact- that thought was paralyzing to me. How to start over- begin your life- after what looks like a failure? What looks like many, many failures? 

It’s one thing to set out on your own at 18, give or take a couple years- and not know what the hell you're doing- but by your mid thirties, we are really kinda expected to have shit mostly figured out. 

But the truth is- most of us don’t. Even the ones who really really seem like they have life all figured out- they don’t either. Everyone is just playing pretend at different levels and hoping no one else notices. Some of us are doing it very consciously (society might call them sociopaths) but most of us are doing it because we think we’re supposed to be doing it. When I meet the random person who doesn’t play along with society’s rules, and is just completely upfront with who they are: what their failures are, says what they mean, and is totally honest- while still managing to have a positive outlook- it catches my attention.

That takes bravery, and I’m trying to be more like them. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately on what it really means when we ask someone to define: “Who are you?” The best answer I’ve been able to come up with is that most of who we are is how we react to situations. 

There are certain things I believe you’ll never really change about your core self. Little quirks of nature that were ingrained in us way before “society” got hold. But I do believe people can change who they are because our actions are what define us- and we can work to change our actions and responses to the world around us over time. However, there is another part of changing oneself- and it might be even more of a challenge than changing our actions and reactions.

It is up to us to let go of the judgements we hold against our past selves, and against others’ past selves. 

In my starting over, I recently sold and moved out of my house and into the suburbs. It has been a strange feeling because on the one hand, I was finally being set free from a tie that I still had to my past marriage that I no longer wanted to have. And in the remaining years after, two other tumultuous relationships. But on the other hand, I was giving up the place that housed a lifetime of my daughter’s precious memories, and of course many wonderful memories of my own. 

I was also leaving my beloved neighborhood and neighbors that I had grown to cherish so much, especially during the pandemic. I was saying goodbye to a huge chunk of my life in Philly that I loved, but was necessary to leave behind. In the end, I was overjoyed to watch a young couple with a baby buy the house, and I love to think how they will fill it with new memories. 

I think all this change is why I’m feeling this deep, paralyzing anxiety that seems to have no real source. 

I’m no stranger to anxiety- honestly, it fuels me like some people are fueled by coffee, or… hatred, or…I don’t know what else normal people are fueled by…sleep, maybe? 

But this anxiety is different. 

It sits higher in my body than I usually feel it- and it’s quieter. It’s like it’s an anxiety that’s in response to the lack of my usual anxieties. This anxiety is here because my body doesn’t know what to do without the constant state of panic and fear I’ve been living in for years. 

This anxiety is here because I don’t know how to not live in that constant state of panic. 

Since I moved, every day I take walks and meditate and stretch in the fresh air. I have been allowing myself to breathe, go slowly, take breaks- and I can feel myself healing. When I feel the familiar pangs of guilt creeping in, I remind myself that in nearly 37 years I have never had the privilege of just feeling safe and relaxed. 

When I tell people “I’m old!” and laugh off whatever strange behavior I’ve just done/weird thing I’ve just said or excuse whatever failure my body has just had- what I mean is: 36 years of hypervigilance is a long time, and my body is very tired. A lot of times, my brain doesn’t want to do it anymore. So please know that every day that I’m still here- seemingly normal- is an active choice, and an invisible fight (at least I’m trying to keep it from being visible!) and right now I’m just trying to learn what it’s like to not live in a constant state of fear. It’s….not easy. 

I’m having a difficult time letting go of my past self, to say the least. When I am feeling contentment and joy, there’s a pang of confusion somewhere. Aren’t I the sad girl, the one who is constantly afraid? Isn’t it my identity to be the downtrodden? If I don’t have that, what do I have?

Something I’ve learned during recent hardships is that people on the outside don’t see me the way I’ve learned to see me. Abusers in my life have used the same kinds of words to describe me always- “sad” “lazy” “faker” “boring” “fat” “dramatic” “depressing” “victim.”

One of my exes once told me that he thought I was the saddest person he had ever known- and that he was the only person that knew it. I was shocked! How could he know that deep down, I was the saddest person, possibly ever?!- and not even I knew it!?

I was upset for days before it finally began to sink in that it just simply wasn’t true. That maybe someone close to me that I loved could have an opinion about me that was simply just wrong. (thank baby Jesus, the therapy must finally be working after all!)

So in the last few months I’ve realized I need to unlearn a whole lot of “truths” I know about myself. Because only I know me. and I get to decide who I am. And when everyone who has stuck by me for the long haul is telling me I’m strong, a good mother, fun, interesting, talented, and all sorts of other things- I think I’d rather listen to them. That sounds more like the me I’m getting to know.

All that being said, most days I kinda feel like I’m kicking ass at this healing thing. Who I am is changing- growing is more accurate, I think. And even though I am really, really ok with leaving that old me behind, I’m not sure how quickly I’ll be able to let go of the judgements of my past selves. I think I will still need more time for that. All in all, I think a little anxiety about a whole new life is probably to be expected. 

Right now I’ll just keep living- with a little less fear every day.