It stole my peace from me.
A quiet dread.
A growing fear.
A gnawing anxiety.
I keep changing the locks, but insecurity always has a key. Over last weekend, I had a growing dread. I began to feel moments of panic. I began to question my abilities. In my mind's eye, I stood and watched hope for my future die.
I couldn't talk about it.
It would sound silly.
I couldn't brush it away.
It stuck like a burr to my sense of self.
I couldn't think of a single strategy.
Except to endure in silence.
I woke in the morning having slept but not rested. I knew that I had to face my concern, I had to go on as if it was any other day.
'Are you alright?'
A question asked in caring made me angry.
It meant that my act had been seen through.
It meant that my weakness had been discovered.
'I'm fine, now leave me alone.'
My shoulders tightened.
My stomach clenched.
And I waited for the axe to fall.
This moment, long in coming, had been presaged. 'Who do you think you are?' 'When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it.' 'Ugly is one thing, stupid is another.' This moment, a moment of discovery. Wounds given in daylight, fester in darkness. And it was here. And ...
Nothing at all.
And I learned again.
Fear is a liar.
Why don't I remember that?