When I read this weeks prompt I was a little disappointed. I can’t write about fear. I don’t know fear. I have been anxious about all sorts of different things throughout my life, but frightened? Nah, not me – tough as old boots me! Spiders? Slugs? Snakes? bring ’em on, wary yes, frightened? no.
I don’t live in a war zone, I have food in my cupboards, a roof over my head.My children are healthy, they survived pregnancy, birth, early years, teenage years, and are now young adults, starting their adult lives. I have friends – a few, not lots, who put up with me! (thank you, from the bottom of my heart).
I am very lucky. I know this. And yet…. I realise that I do know fear. I fear depression. I am frightened of it returning and sinking me so low I cannot come back. I am frightened if it returns that I will alienate my family. I am frightened that if it returns I may do something stupid. I am frightened that I will be on pills I don’t want for the rest of my life. I am frightened that I will become even more of an emotional eater than I already am and get even huger than I already am.
I am watching for the signs. I monitor my mental health, my eating, but I am frightened that I will miss going down the slope. Am I already sliding? Is this tearfulness hormonal or depression sneaking in? Was that bar of chocolate because I fancied it and I really haven’t had chocolate for so long or was it a need somewhere deep inside to comfort eat because something else went wrong?
I want to combat my fear. But it is hard.
EDIT: This post was written and published minutes before the sad news of the death of Robin Williams (actor, comedian, genius) was breaking across the globe. I have internally debated deleting it and will keep it here for a while. It may be that I choose to delete it when I get home from work. I don’t know how I feel.