file under F

F is for feelings, which i have. they are delicate and plentiful, and can just as easily make me laugh out loud as make me weep. sometimes they keep me awake at night with their giggling, sometimes they get kicked around when i am not careful with them, sometimes they buoy me to the heavens like a million helium balloons, and sometimes they render me paralyzed and overwhelmed. i like talking about feelings, and writing about feelings, but i’m not entirely comfortable doing either in a public space like the middle of a shopping mall or on a downtown street corner or here on this blog. but sometimes i need to talk about feelings or write about feelings because doing so helps me process them before they consume me... even if that just means purging them into a piece of prose i’ll probably delete as soon as it’s finished, or saying them out loud in the shower where no one else but me will ever hear them.

F is for fear, which is the feeling i find myself treading chin-deep in of late. floundering, even. not fear in the afraid-for-my-life sense. a fear that’s quiet, and whispering, and insidious, and slowly wrapping its slippery tendrils of self-doubt and worry and panic around my wrists and ankles. it weighs down my steps so much that i stop. completely. it settles in, sets up shop and then clangs its alarm bells to awaken every dormant anxiety within me, so that they all feed on each other and grow stronger and get bigger until the cacophony of negative thought starts to drown out everything else. the fear then waddles to the deepest part of me and sits there like a malignant growth. festering.

F is for frozen, which is how i feel with this fear. like i can’t move. at all. like i shouldn’t move, lest i make a mistake. like i have no clue what i’m doing, and should just sit still and do nothing until i feel safe or figure out a proper course of action. a task that, in turn, sometimes feels like it might take forever.

F is for failure, which is not only how i sometimes feel about my life, but what the fear also wants me to believe about myself. that the steps i've taken have all been failures. that the steps i try to take in the future will lead me to fail. again. and that anyone who might witness the attempt(s) will be front-row centre for a spectacular display of failing, starring me.

F is for foolish, which is what i realize the fear and its repercussions are when i look at them intellectually and rationally. but that doesn’t make them any less potent, emotionally, when they pop up.

F is for frustrated, which how all the above makes me feel. like i’m spinning my wheels and unable to squash the fear as it takes over. i want to throttle it but, frequently, wind up punishing myself instead. chastising myself for allowing it in the first place. being harsh and critical over every word i utter and every thing i think. condemning my own behaviour. and what’s especially frustrating is that i recognize the futility and foolishness, but can’t seem to figure out a way to head it all off at the pass. subsequently, F is also for frazzled and frantic and f**ked-up.

F is for forgiveness, which is what i need to show myself. and friendship towards myself. freely, more sincerely and more often. for the fears and the freezing and the foolishness and the frenetic fraying that follows. because i am human, and these feelings happen.

F is for fortitude, which i clearly need to cultivate. with fervor. so that fearlessness becomes more familiar and i can follow that road faithfully.

F is for fleeting, which is what i hope this fearful feeling becomes. so that, as time goes on, it flashes only briefly and then instantly flames out. extinguished forcefully. fast. fully. forgotten. so that i am free from it.

for good.