I used to be fearless.
Or at least I didn't give in as often to the "what ifs?" circling my brain, waiting to push down any or all of my impulses. Nowadays, when I'm about to lunge forward I feel doubt yanking me back by my collar, off my feet, begging me to look again, more closely this time, and figure out if what I want is really the smart thing to do.
If I were always like this I wouldn't be here now. If I never was, my life would be completely different, too. It's impossible to say, however, which version of my life would be more closely aligned with how I always wanted things to be. I'd like to think that I am exactly where I should be, after all. But I'd know this for sure if I didn't give in to fear as much as I have.
For most of the past year I've been in a very dark place, with glimpses of brilliant sun and blue skies sprinkled in-between (and I say this not because I now live in Seattle, where the weather can be described as such). I can't remember the last time I was plagued with so much self-doubt and confusion, both holding me in inertia's firm grip. I know instinctively there are steps I need to take to move myself completely out of this state and into a place where I want to be; the problem is that I keep overthinking my moves and then, when suddenly I'm overwhelmed, I simply curl up in denial.
When did this happen, I ask myself? But of course, I already know. It's been creeping up on me slowly these past 20 years, after my first panic attack on the freeway turned into a full-blown panic disorder that I haven't quite been able to manage. I've written about this before, of how it happened -- lingering illness coupled with emotional stress (from dealing with a violent stalker) and medication -- and how I've had to craft my life around dealing with it. I've seen therapists, psychiatrists, and psychologists; I've taken all kinds of prescriptions for anxiety and depression. I've made all sorts of personal and professional decisions based on trying to manage stress and especially trying to keep my attacks at bay.
So now I'm here, not anywhere near where I thought I'd be today. And yet I strive to remain grateful for all the people and experiences I've encountered along the way up to this point. I am infinitely more patient than I ever used to be, with much more empathy and compassion, especially for the broken, the damaged, and the walking wounded like myself. Perhaps ironically I've discovered that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I was or could be. At the workplace, for instance, I can handle quite a lot without breaking down. When you've dealt with much more, with things that feel like they have life-and-death repercussions, work is just work.
Still, I can't be in this place of fear any more. I've been fighting it off for too long without actually trying to move past it and risk failure if need be. I need to find my passion again, to discover my purpose in life. I need to stop thinking of all the things that can possibly go wrong and have faith that right will win if I truly believe in what I'm doing. I have to believe that when I'm on the right path again, I'll be able to beat the panic attacks that come out of nowhere and I'll be able to get on the freeway and drive anywhere I want to. Anywhere, like I used to.
The Universe, it seems, is telling me it's time. Every day I receive a message -- or maybe I'm just finally listening. The other day, for instance, I was reading a commencement speech by Maria A. Ressa, a journalist. I was expecting to read about integrity, honesty, and fairness. But not this:
"I wish you the courage to fail – because success and failure are two sides of the same coin. You cannot succeed if at some point you haven’t failed. I’m not the first to say this, but I can tell you I’ve proven it first-hand. You can’t accomplish anything important if you don’t take risks. And you won’t risk if you’re afraid to fail. So "fail fast. Fail forward. Fail better."
Today my cousin posted this video on her Facebook page.
So if you see me falling flat on my face, failing hard, just know it's all part of the plan. I'll get up again.
Comments