Day 19 – Five Fears You Have

Well, this one is personal.

I’ve actually been struggling with some deep stuff recently . . . it all seems to be coming to a head because of the handful of planets in retrograde right now. Apparently I haven’t been taking good care of myself, because I am currently getting over a second bout of shingles. Had one attack when I was 19 . . . having another one now. It’s most likely leftover viral crap from when I was little and had viral meningitis. Mars is in my 12th house in Taurus – which obviously during a Mars retrograde means SHINGLES.

Kidding, of course – we have a Mars retrograde every two years or so. (Look at me, remembering that off the top of my head. I even Googled it to make sure I was correct. I was. My astrologer friend would be so proud of me.)

Whatever the reason, I’ve been sick for over two weeks and I’m extremely irritable about the whole thing. Apparently the universe decided I needed some time to rest and focus on myself. Or I’m working through some buried mind/body connection stuff. Either way, I should be meditating instead of clicking aimlessly through Facebook all the time. Meditating is just so HARD *whiny voice*.

SO what is it I’m avoiding talking about by rambling about shingles?

Oh yeah.

My five fears.

Can’t I just write another bullshit blog about what random fruit is my least favorite and why? No? Dammit. Fine.

#1 – Tornadoes

Yes, I know that’s the Tasmanian Devil from Loony Tunes. Do you really think I’m going to post five pictures of the five greatest fears I have?!?! That’d make this blog post the source of nightmares. Well, my nightmares anyway. And I can lucid dream – which is really fucked up. Nothing like running from -INSERT BIG SCARY WHATEVER HERE- and you know you’re dreaming and you just have to wake up so the thing will stop chasing you and you can’t. Tornadoes, coincidentally, are one of the things I have nightmares about. I guess it’s the sheer powerlessness you have when one hits. I grew up in tornado alley, (still living there), and often slept in the basement with my parents as a child during the spring. I didn’t like the idea of some huge force of nature leveling miles of civilization, and killing people randomly. I don’t like it now.

Side note, the tornadoes in my dreams are sometimes not nature-based. I’ve dreamed of cartoon tornadoes, mechanical tornadoes, and invisible tornadoes. None of them were fun.

#2 – Something happening to my animals

I know it’s inevitable. That I will outlive my fuzzy critters. I am painfully aware we have a houseful of senior citizens and five years from now our family will look very different. I am extremely attached to my furry ones and I do everything in my power to protect them and make sure they have a long and happy life.

It doesn’t always work that way.

This picture is of Truman and Jasmine. Truman is the fuzzy grey baby, and I was his favorite human. This was days after their sister Isabella died suddenly after a surgery. These two kitties grieved and grieved for Izzy, looking for her all over the house, meowing at me like they were telling me to DO SOMETHING . . . the whole thing was horribly heartbreaking, and I never really recovered from it until Izzy came back reincarnated as a beautiful black kitty. I named her Phoenix. Another story for another blog.

Growing up, my parents were no-animals-in-the-house people, and every single one of my pets met an untimely and gruesome death. My parents did finally get a beautiful chocolate lab named Cocoa to protect the house, and she lived a long and happy life indoors. All of my fuzzies now are indoors, and I do what I can to protect them. But I worry – what if we were in a car wreck and never came home? All my babies would get shipped to animal control, and they are fond of putting down cats there. My sweet Kona who has sinus issues and sounds like Darth Vader would be assumed sick and unadoptable and euthanized immediately. Everyone else is old – also unadoptable. My only comfort is the hope my animal-loving friends would step in and somehow find them all good homes.

Truman lived to be ten and died of a tick-born disease. He never stepped a paw outside, but a human or dog must’ve brought a tick in with them and it bit him. Jasmine died recently of old age. My current five cats and three dogs are all healthy and happy. 🙂

#3 – Something happening to my loved ones

This one and #2 actually have a deep-rooted limiting belief that most likely will show up as #5 when I get down there.

#4 Being Homeless

Ok, there’s no freaking picture I can put here that’s not uber-fucking depressing, so I’ll just skip a photo for this one.

Also, I’m pretty sure this one ties into #5, which apparently I’m supposed to write about. I could just put spiders, but I’m not really afraid of spiders. Not afraid of snakes either. I am afraid of losing my home. I’ve always always always managed to find some sort of bullshit job no matter how bad the economy, but since the economy tanked in 2008 and I lost my somewhat decent job I have been fresh out of full-time bullshit jobs. The girl who used to work three jobs so she could support her first husband’s spending habits now can’t get hired at one part-time job because I’m overqualified.

I’ve been hanging on a wing and a prayer for years now, and I’d really like to see an end in sight. I like my shabby little house with our fuzzy family. I don’t want to lose it. I’ve almost lost it twice.

#5 Being Abandoned

Fine. Here it is. The fear that probably tops tornadoes. And I can tell you exactly where it stems from, although I’ve spent my entire life avoiding it and denying it.

I was abandoned as a baby.

That’s a harsh way to put it, but to a baby, that’s what it felt like. No, I don’t remember my birth (although some people do), but I have had a permeating air of sadness and loss my ENTIRE life. There is a whole month of my life I don’t know where I was. Pretty sure I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks and in a foster home for a couple of weeks. Do you know how disorienting that is to a baby? Studies show that babies instantly know their mother’s voice coming out of the womb. That babies who are given up for adoption (which I was) have an impossible time fitting in as humans because they spend their childhoods grieving for something they don’t understand?

Now things are different. Now there are open adoptions and adoptive parents can be in the hospital immediately to surround that child with love and warmth and happiness and comfort the second they enter the world. Now those children get to grow up with roots and a background. With a support system to help them grow and cope.

I had none of that. I didn’t even have any answers as to why.

I do now. I know a lot of my birthfamily, and I love them and respect my birthmother for the impossible choice she made. I hold no ill will towards her at all.

But Baby Marti didn’t know any of that. She just knew that she was alone. And I have felt alone my entire life.

Which isn’t always a bad thing.

I like being a loner. Introverts are cool right now. And I broadened an already creative mind by adding loneliness and brooding on top of it.

But I have feared people leaving me my whole life.

I had a complete breakdown as a small child when my friend didn’t want to sit by me at Sunday school. She pushed my chair away slowly with her foot while the teacher spoke. It broke my tiny little heart. I cried and cried until the teacher came and picked me up and carried me to the front of the class, comforting me while she continued to teach and sing. That experience is most likely why I enjoy being in front of a crowd speaking and singing. I was comfortable and happy and accepted up there in that teacher’s arms. I don’t even remember that nice lady’s name or her face.

My on-again-off-again friend liked me later – I have no idea why she was nice to me sometimes and wasn’t at other times. I saw her at a church reunion when we were adults years later and she didn’t even remember me. I now realize her actions had nothing to do with me and everything to do with her. “With age comes wisdom . . . ” right, Oscar Wilde? We can only hope.

When I was in the second grade, I got in trouble for making a new friend and literally tying her to me with the belt of my coat.
I LITERALLY TIED THE KID TO ME WITH MY BELT. That’s how badly I didn’t want her to leave me.
We’re Facebook friends. I think she’s thumbs-upped one thing on my wall ever.

I have spent my life stubbornly staying in love relationships that were horrible for me because I clung to them with every fiber of my emotional being. I have very few friends, because I don’t trust anyone to not leave me. I have manifested situation after situation where I am thrown to the curb because I was unconsciously sure that was what was going to happen in the end.

I KNOW. I’M WORKING ON IT.

That’s what life is about.

Discovering limiting beliefs and working on them.

And finding love and happiness and fuzzy critters and enjoying everything.

I’m working on it.

Good lord, this one was difficult. I’ll stop bitching about the stupid questions in the 30 Day Blogging Challenge. At least those aren’t so emotionally gut-wrenching.

To brighten this post, I’ll end with my current favorite funny pic I encountered on Facebook recently.