I have tried, over the years, to figure out how and why this fear came to be.  Nothing specific comes to mind.  I didn’t have a horrific experience at a young age which seeped into my subconscious and left me debilitated.  What I do know is that from my earliest memories, I have been a fearful person.  I convinced myself I had gingivitis around age 6.  Age 8, it was AIDS.  I remember grocery shopping with my mom and stopping intermittently in the aisles to check my heart-rate.  I didn’t even know how to do that so I just put my hand over my chest and made sure my heart was still beating.  Any bruise was leukemia.  Any headache was a brain tumor.  The crazy was in full effect for me long before I even knew what it meant to be that way.  Anxiety and obsessive thoughts have plagued me my entire life.  I’ll spare you all the ridiculous things I used to do just to ensure I would be alive the next day.  I will tell you though, that they are pretty funny.  Ok, I know you want to know:  touching cracks, checking light switches to see if the skrews were facing the same direction, obsessive counting, making sure the clasp on my necklace was resting exactly on my vertebrae before I slept, checking the door to be sure it was locked.  Every year something new seems to be the “obsessive act” of the moment.

The thing is, I can look at this and laugh because I know it’s irrational but that doesn’t stop me from doing and thinking the way that I do.  I’ve prayed, mediated, journaled, and discussed until I can’t anymore and I am still the way that I am.  It prevents me from being who I am meant to be though and that’s where the problem really exists.  No one should live in constant fear of anything and I live in fear every day of my life.  Thing is, I don’t know exactly what it is I am afraid of.  Is it death?  Is it eternity?  Is it failure?  I can’t figure it out and I am tired.

It has been several weeks since my last post and if you feel slighted, my apologies. However, in the interest of my reputation, I did tell you that I am a rather inconsistent person and had hopes of writing more than once. So, if you are upset….it is your own fault.

That being said, my post title has multiple meanings. Let us start with the first:

1. Remember how I desperately wanted the Turner Networks internship….well I got it. However, I am not currently interning there because HR neglected to call me to tell me that I said internship and I accepted a role in a marvelous little ditty of a show called “Love Song” instead. I have no regrets because I have loved being a part of this stellar cast. I had forgotten how much I loved being on stage and working the people I am working with has been extraordinarily fruitful. The only downside is the travel and being away from Michael for days at a time. The upside is that if I were in Atlanta I would be away from him still. Things happen for a reason. God says it and so does my mom so it must be true. A possibility still exists that I will be in Atlanta in the Spring but I will have to wait and see…a constant and tiring theme in my life.

2.  Now on to a more serious topic, for me at any rate.  You see, I have had this idea floating in my head since 2000.  Orginally it was for a children’s tv show.  I let the idea rest and grow and be nourished for several years and then I randomly sent an e-mail to Family Communications, they own the rights to Mr. Rogers, telling them briefly of my idea.  Never thought I would hear anything back…I did.  They were interested in my idea and wanted a treatment.  A what?  You want a what from me?  Panic, insomnia, fear of my own inadequacies ensued.  It took me a year to write the dang thing and then I sent it off…never to be heard from again.  The idea morphed into another idea for a novel, for middle grade students, and there it rests.  I think about writing this thing every day, EVERY SINGLE DAY, and yet I have yet to start.  Why you may ask.   Because I am scared.  I am afraid I am talentless and incapable of crafting a story.  I have no delusions of grandeur despite my husband’s ardent belief that I will be our meal ticket one day and he will get to drive a Porsche.  I just want to write the damn thing but I haven’t started because I don’t know how to begin.  Are you sensing a theme here?  My fear immoblizes me.  I hate that about myself yet I must accept that truth in order to muster the strength to change it.

So there you have it:  How does one let themselves make strides towards getting what they want?

THE LESSON: Let yourself want something

An explanation is in order. Over a month ago I applied for an internship at Turner Networks in Atlanta. I will spare you the illustrious details but I would have been doing research to help support the Cartoon Network website revamp. It sounded perfect: cartoon network, research, Atlanta, kids, etc. I made it through two interviews and they both went very well. I wanted it. Bad. But I didn’t let myself admit that fact. Instead I passed if off is another possibility. I said to myself potential rejection is something I deal with every time I audition for something. No big deal. My last interview was last Tuesday. I knew that they would be making their decision by Friday. So I waited. In the midst of waiting, even before actually, I knew that if I was truly supposed to get this internship then it would be. You see, I have faith that God has a plan for me. I need to have the belief that my life and all that I have done will come to something other than nothingness.
What I didn’t understand at the time is that even when you believe there is a greater purpose and something you want doesn’t come to pass it doesn’t mean that you have to pretend to not care.

This internship seemed perfect for all that I have done thus far. And I never heard anything. I am working off the assumption that I did not get it and even though I seemingly prepared myself for disappointment by convincing myself that it really didn’t matter to me whether or not I got the job it still upset me.

What I learned was that regardless of whether or not I tried to live under the illusion of not caring, I still do. The disappointment and pain still comes regardless so why not just admit to myself that I want something. I expend so much energy trying to pretend that I don’t care and it all comes to nothing in the end because the reality is that I do.

I think God isn’t offended by our desires or our emotions. Being alive means that you have to deal with disappointment AND wants and I don’t think it does us or Him any good by trying to negate our actual feelings. Am I disappointed about not getting the internship? YES. Do I believe it was the best thing for me not to get it? YES.

It makes me sad to admit this but in the interest of being honest I have to do so. The thing is I know that what I have to bring to the table is uniquely my own. It is something that I cannot change and these traits should be something I am proud of because they make me who I am. I am always espousing the virtues of individuality to my friends, encouraging them to be themselves and to be proud of who God has made them to by. So why do I feel inferior in this instance (again, vagueness is required). Why do I waste my time comparing? It really isn’t worth it.

If you know me at all you know that car care is not one of my strong suites.  Case in point:  My beloved jeep cherokee came to its flaming demise the night of my honeymoon on a road trip from Birmingham to Atlanta.  Yes, my vehicle caught on fire just outside of the Bham and it was all due to owner neglect.  I do not care about the latest styles, I don’t want to own a nice car.  I prefer functionality over appearance and I have vowed to always drive a station wagon.  That’s my only requirement.  Now that I drive a Subaru I want to always drive a wagon of theirs

Well, now that we know my feelings about cars let us turn our attention to my love for Top Gear first.  The hosts of this show:  Jeremy, James, and Richard are fabulously British.  They talk about all things car but in a very entertaining way  One must not leave out the infamous Stig.  No one really knows who he is except that he was probably a Formula One driver, yes I know what formula one is be amazed, and he is the epitome of cool.  These guys do crazy and absurd things with cars.  They drive lemons across the desert, they race RV’s, they test drive super cars, and I love every minute of it.  If you aren’t watching, you should be.

Now on to Car Talk with Click and Clack.  I’ve known about this radio program for quite some time but I rediscovered it on a trip to Orlando this past Saturday.  CONFESSION: I rarely listen to music.  The only exceptions are when I am working out and even then it is the same music I’ve always listened to.  My modern musical repretoire comes from spinning classes…sad.  Anyway, if i am not listening to a book on CD then I am listening to some sort of talk radio.  Car Talk rules because of the hosts.  People call in with all sorts of random car issues and the brothers tell them what they think the problem might be.  The thing is everyone laughs all through the segments.  It is funny because of the way it is presented.  I really couldn’t tell you the difference between a lug nut and the engine but I can tell you that I will listen to Car Talk just because of the hosts.

I think it is fasicnating that these two programs are about a topic I care nothing about but are presented in such a way that I stay tuned in and in the process learn a smidge.

Here are links to  the websites:

topgear.com

I attempt journaling and blogging several times throught any given year without much follow through.  There, I said it, I have no follow through.  I have countless half-filled journals lining the shelves of my many bookcases.  I think I’ve started at least 3 blogs over the past few years but for various reasons I never wrote in them.  I have this issue with perfection and if you know me that doesn’t come as a shock.  I have this feeling when I am writing that everything needs to make completely logical sense, every sentence puncuated accurately, every thought concise.  I suppose that is because I think that somewhere down the line someone will read them and think how dumb I am not because of what I wrote but because of how I wrote what I did.

This brings us to a confession:  I have an extreme fear of appearing stupid.  It’s an idol for me.  I don’t know where this came from…or maybe I do.  I think it is due in part to the fact that I am 31 years old and still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.  You see, I live a life of duality:  art and science.  I am driven by both but have yet to figure out where they connect for me.  It feels like everyone around me is already checked in and I am just floating around looking for my outlet.  Therein lies the fear of people around me, people I know intimately and people who just pass me on the street, thinking I am stupid for not having figured this out yet.   That is another issue completely:  Why do I even care?  The answer to that question is vanity on multiple levels but I will spare you that for now.

This is just the first entry and I will be honest and say that I writing for me but also for you.  Yes, I am claiming an audience whoever and wherever you are.