I am not afraid of heights but I am deathly afraid of falling. I do not like the sensation at all and the fear grips me in a way nothing else does. The crazy thing is, it's not just the physical sensation of falling; it's the emotional sensation of falling in and out of love and the spiritual fear of falling from grace. That last fear is from having been raised by incredibly rule driven parents and that being a "good girl" was expected to be at the top of my list at all times. If I was good I would avoid trouble, avoid heartache, and stay on a path that would ensure maximum success. I still carry the emotional scars from being good and the guilt from the times I wasn't.
The fear of not being good enough has fed my lack of ability to commit to things that are not significant in the hopes of not making a mistake. I can commit to God, men, friends, and my career. I cannot, however, commit to the less important things in life, which are the simple, daily things that tend to make other people crazy. I don't know how I like my eggs. See the movie "Runaway Bride" if you don't understand the reference. I don't care to make decisions that really don't seem to matter in the grand scheme of life like "what's for dinner?", "what movie do you want to see?", "want to go to the mall?", etc. I don't care; honestly, simply and truly I don't. I make life or death decisions all day long and spaghetti versus enchiladas isn't in that equation. If I happen to have something specific in mind, I will let you know, otherwise, it's really fine. But what has becoming my sinking reality is that since I can't take control of those little things, it takes me longer to take control of the big things, and that needed level of control is not always happening before the things become overwhelming.
The overwhelming feeling is what breaks me down. I'm an all or nothing, black or white, kind of girl. I'm working on that with everything I have. The fact that I have woke up crying nearly every afternoon for weeks is something that causes me a great amount of stress. It's not because I'm sad; it's because I'm overwhelmed with emotions, some of which I haven't felt in a long time. I am filled with a new found love for myself, my life, and the amazing people in it. I feel brave. I feel apprehensive as to whether I can take care of a huge old house and five acres by myself. I question my ability to negotiate the price of the new tires I need to buy this week. I wonder how I'll get my new mattress home strapped to the top of my old 99 Rodeo, in the event I can't borrow a friend and their truck. I can only hope I can fix my swamp cooler by myself without losing a finger. I have to learn. There is no shame in asking for help, but I have to try for myself first.
What is a shame is when we feel like the circumstances around us are pressuring us to not stand up for ourselves and self preserve. The little things are telling us it's okay to be complacent and not walk away from the things that are damaging our very soul. The fear of it all; of being lonely, or not good enough, or of being too much. Sometimes, the apprehension is only because someone has said these things to us at some point and yet they may not even be true. I hear those things for a moment but I pray for God to shut them up and He does. He is always faithful. The words that have been used on us in the past can be so powerful but we have to remember they were just words. Words only hold meaning when they are backed up with actions, which then makes them memories. Without actions, words are just manuscripts on the walls of our mind. Some of the scripts are in beautiful, sweeping cursive that we will always want to remember and some are in freeway overpass graffiti that we can't seem forget.
We allow others to have so much power over us, telling us what we should be doing and reminding us we don't fit in, or that maybe we do. We should be able to decide for ourselves where we fit in to this life. I should be watering my own soul and weeding my own garden, pruning out things that are hurtful and not pretty. It's scary. I'm not going to lie about that. But at no time should I allow someone else to take something away from my life that I find incredible.
We are each a beautiful disaster in our own way and I don't have to know how I like my eggs to know that my heart and soul are worth more than the uncertainty they feel of the unknown. When I have the fear that I will fall I need to remind myself that I can also choose to fly. It's time to do all the things on my list. Whether I do them alone or not will be a question for later but, the bottom line is, I will do them. Everything will be good. No, better than good. It will be awesome.
