What is fear?
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, it is ‘a feeling of apprehension, distress or alarm caused by impending danger or, pain.’ Wikipedia gives us a variation, describing fear as ‘an emotion induced by a perceived threat’ and goes on to say ‘fear is the ability to recognise danger, leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it.’
In essence, fear is a basic survival instinct. It protects us by alerting us to danger and then preparing the body to respond to this danger. Yet, how often do we actually find ourselves in a life of death situation, where the fight or flight response is critical? For most of us, never. Instead, we find ourselves hanging back, dawdling, in a word – procrastinating. I welcome you to my dilemma.
As I sit here now, my heart is racing, my breathing is quickening and my blood pressure is elevated. My body is preparing itself for physical action – to fight or to run. But why? A sabre toothed tiger doesn’t have me trapped in a cave; Freddie Kreuger isn’t plaguing my dreams and Michael Myers certainly isn’t my brother (I don’t think!). Yet I am afraid and my body responds in the same way, regardless of what it is I am afraid of.
For the longest time I have wanted to write; to explore the deepest recesses of my mind, where monsters roam and evil lurks. But how deep do I go? Dare I push open the rusted iron door and step through into the blackness? Dare I explore the darkest and most despicable depths of my psyche, where a certain kind of magic has taken root? You cannot see it, you cannot touch it, but I assure you it is there. The voices whisper to me in the dark of the night, calling to me, drawing me to my journals, whilst the world sleeps on, oblivious to the danger that prowls inside.
What I fear, is fear itself. Fear that my resolve will come crashing down. Fear that the walls I have built to protect me from the demons within, might crack and crumble as I impart the secrets that I hold. Welcome to my world.
How much to share with you, I have yet to decide. How much I can trust you, can only be proven with the passage of time. Is this why it has taken me so long to write this blog? Perhaps. I want you to know me; to know my words, but are you ready? Are you brave enough to open yourself up to the whispers of a warped and twisted mind?
Will we be bonded by what has been or what is to come? Will my ramblings entice you to linger, entice you to share? Oh, would that I have a spell that I may cast, so that I may but know your mind. I must, however, content myself that you have found my words.
May fear protect you when the darkness comes.
Welcome to Scary Ramblings. Til next time.