holy hell.

hi everyone. i'm terrified. i don't mean this in my usual, hyperbolic assessment of some new (relatively) trifling work or personal situation. i mean this in the WILL-I-EVER-BE-THE-SAME fright that only a long-denied, wholly unexpressed childhood fear can elicit. turns out, i have never before experienced panic. or at least not in my adult life.* ... but this is something i feel best described by the phrase "bone-rattling." literally, my bones shake. my organs shake. i shake. it's fear. the subject / content of which is probably less interesting than the phenomenon itself. let's just say, in short form, it's about getting hurt (again) in romance. startlingly singular and fascinating, i know! i'm the first person ever! so... the mystery of my two solidly single decades is solved, at least - or on the way to being so. this is progress, i have no doubt about that. but fucking HARD-FOUGHT (and not yet entirely won) progress. mother of god. i didn't know people could feel this way. what follows is not a cry-for-help, NOT YET - it's merely an expression of a new kind of understanding: i now understand why people off themselves. poor david foster wallace. i can't even imagine the pain. i've been reading his "a supposedly fun thing i'll never do again" essay the last few days; the weird thing is that everyone feels connected to that guy. how can someone so observant and warm and hearty and hilarious and weird not feel the love back? how could we all adore him and his thoughts so much [and by association his person] without him feeling this love? what happens in us / to us / between us that keeps all the understanding-magic from inhabiting us or eachother? anyhow, back to my suffering. cuz like i said, that is fascinating stuff.

i've been reading / listening to / talking alot about fear lately. the buddhists compare fear to a dream where, e.g., you're being chased by a tiger and you fully believe it to be real until you wake up and then of course realize "it was just a dream" - and the terror instantly vanishes into nothingness. they say our thoughts and stories and fears are exactly the same, except that it's harder to pull back the shade of fiction, because we live in it and are committed to it on some subconscious level. where we all agree consciously (and subconsciously) that dreams are not real. neurobiologists say that the amygdala, which houses our fear and emotional center, connects only in a one-way street to our pre-frontal cortex, where reaction-decisions are made -- a major superhighway from fear to action. the reverse path, however, whereby we can make decisions and reverse the fear response or alter it by the force of our reason, is only connected by a series of small, bumpy, winding, unpaved backroads. i like the idea of trying to pave this road.

the odd thing about this experience, about fear, is that much of the trauma comes from the fear itself. it's the fear the body reacts to - that's why the raised heartbeat, the sweaty forehead, the numb limbs, the burning chest and gut. which, it usually turns out, is the extent of the negative experience. it's all right there in that moment, when you have a scary thought and your body responds. the next, crucial step, from what i am gathering, happens when you indulge that thought and extrapolate out a life of lonely devastation and perpetual sweating. that's when the mind starts to lose its hold. the purpose of the mind is  to protect the body from such traumas, so it comes as no surprise that a "crazy" experience takes hold as you fully experience the fear. your mind is logically arguing that you GET THE FUCK AWAY, but for whatever reason, you're in it. and now your body is in charge, bearing the brunt of the mind's vomit. i never thought about that: fear is the mind's puke. and it actually feels just like that, come to think of it. the mind does not know what to do with fear other than RUN AWAY and protect. this is the superhighway aforementioned. it's instantaneous. it tries to save you.

i've been told recently, much to my dumbly surprised nearly-40-self, that fear is "part of being human. get used to it." somehow i was under the impression that i didn't really so much have any of that. well, joke's on me. some fears are just too big to be unearthed without the help of hormones and luuuurve, turns out.

tools. i have been given a few tools so simple-sounding that you'd almost think they aren't worth listening to or trying. but isn't it always the case that the smartest tools are also the simplest ones? Number One: Breath. When the panic hits, if you can train yourself to be instantly aware of the physical or mental/emotional cues and start to breathe deeply into the belly, you're halfway there. part of the crazy-feeling comes from thinking you're losing your mind, when in fact you've just let fear take over - whose JOB IT IS to get you to run like hell, like we said. so to be able to take a few deep breaths and literally say in your head "oh, fear's here. terror's here. pain is here. hellooooo guys..." makes you YOU again - puts you back in control of the situation. and let's be honest, this is all about control in the end. Number Two: Acknowledge that Love/Life/What-Have-You is larger than the pain and fear you're experiencing. that you, your heart can handle it. Number Three: Tell the scared person (kid?) in you not to worry - that you're in charge now and you know what to do, that a very smart person taught you a very smart system and all you have to do is allow it. Number Four: Use Your Senses. Name 5 things you see, 5 things you hear, 5 things you smell, something you taste (p.s. metal is the taste of fear, i have discovered). this part of the exercise puts you firmly back in your body, in the world, and reinforces that you are alive in this very non-scary room or place, wherever you are. it's a good one. very grounding. Number 5: SEARCH for the fear. look for its remaining hiding place. maybe you feel a little tremble in your belly or a residual burning in your arms/chest or numbness in your calves. the instruction i've been given is to "Let your kind breath touch that spot." Where breath meets terror, terror cannot live. sounds way too simple, but i'm telling you people, it works. BREATH. who knew? all the buddhists, actually.

alright. i guess that's all i have to say on the subject for now. this is quite a trip, an insane-feeling adventure. but i also know that it is leading me down the path to being able to experience virtually ANYthing that life hands me - and hopefully it will even make me smarter to the hidden/disguised fears that have been kind of ruling my life and inadvertently choosing on my behalf for the last 40 years. oy.

*i suppose i panicked a bit in cameroon - my first 3 weeks nothing short of a ghostly dream and me sort of lacily floating through it all sincerely exclaiming to my new international co-volunteers: "do you feel like you're dreaming?"

POST-SCRIPT: my therapist recommends i do a lot of exercise, spend a lot of time around trees, eat alot of root vegetables (potatoes, carrots, beets, rutabagas, etc) and drink "Irish Guiness." no shit. i love her.