I'm sitting alone, in my lounge room with a stomach twisting on itself, tight and shaky, dancing with nerves and adrenalin. There's no excitement, there's no race start line in sight. There IS an empty house, with blinds flapping wildly in the wind through an open window in the classic 1970's 'fake' back room, where there used to be a per-specs window. Now gone after filthy human beings ripped it off as an easy entrance to smash a back glass door to my house.
Coming home to your house, in particular your own bedroom, ransacked and broken glass littering your entire living room floor with the smell of a foreign stench loitering in the air is up there as a shitty experience with just a few other gut wrenching scenarios. The roller-coaster of emotions that follows will, I doubt, ever get less significant or raw or horrible. Knowing that someone - someones dirty hands - has riffled through your underwear draw, seen the inner sanctum of your home and Ripped it apart, like an animal. AND for WHAT? A few jewels, some outdated technology, and a stack load of memories that won't make said criminal any money, but will fade a little memory of mine. What's the motive? What's the point?This leads to wild plotting and far fetched storyline's or motives, that can only bring me to one thing. To think that they haven't finished the job they originally came to do, that they'll be back, for whatever they were hungrily searching for - more money making pieces of my memory or even worse ME. It's winter, it's cold, the wind is howling, rain is sporadic, and the house creaks like the 30 year old piece of bricks it is. Excellent backdrop for paranoia of round two being imminent, quickly before the high tech alarm system is installed.
Fear is sliding through my veins and causing a false sense of unhappiness, totally not warranted - what are the odds someone is after me? Should I seriously think about that? No, it'll make it worse, my mere human brain will seek the worst outcome and instil fear to drive that primal survival instinct. Thinking of the escape routes, where to put the kitchen knife when I go to bed, who's going to be on speed dial first - police or mum? Fear is a great motivator of innovation, spear head to survival, this may not be new to some militant groups, army corps or bully's that use fear to manipulate others for self gain. Can we use it in a healthy balanced way? I think so - definitely not tonight though, my imagination is running wild and I am doing to be jumping in bed at every creak.
Fear of losing, fear of disappointing, upsetting, discovering an ugly truth best kept hidden, exposing wounds, pushing too far or too little, not winning his heart, getting caught doing whatever it is you don't want to be caught doing, lying, someone lying to you, not being accepted, failing. However you want to put it, there will always be something that when reaching out or changing courses will hold you back slightly, or even worse A LOT. Fine line between using that fear to get little butterfly wings fluttering in your stomach with excitement and rendering you useless, frozen with pure fear. Then not reaching for your biggest goal or trying to achieve your true potential.
It's ok, I can smell the fear almost in this house tonight, the air is tense, fuck you burglars for making me too scared to sleep in my own bed tonight with no one else in the house. But I'm going to stick two fingers up and sleep with as clear a mind as possible to wake in attack mode. Ready to attack life when the sun is up, with energy to be positive and motivated, not stationary with no saliva in my mouth. Where is playing it safe going to get me? OR you? A nice wardrobe, home of my own at a young age, mortgage for the next 35 years, new car every 5 years, pool in the backyard, private school for the kids, weeks holiday down south at Easter time, maybe that big month long holiday every now and then that requires saving up for, respect for the $300 gift form the registry at your friends wedding, insurance and private health to protect your loved ones should something outlandish happen. Perhaps a picket fence thrown in there? Yeah, sounds nice, sounds mediocre. Don't bring me back down to earth by saying that the only thing I need is family and friends and love, because YES I totally agree. But the 10 hour days don't leave much time left to enjoy those beautiful things. Stress for that deadline which is reaching someone else's goals won't lengthen your life, laughter at not meeting your own whilst sipping freshly squeezed juice on your balcony over-looking the beach eating breakfast with the whole family at 9am because you can get up whenever the fuck you want WILL.
