Baby Steps - Fear Again

  

I am scared of snakes, some bugs, roller coasters and now -      a relationship. Seriously.

Ultimately, fear is now fear of dying.  As adults, we think of death as an abstract eventuality.  Then the SCA arrives in our life, and death becomes far more concrete.  It is now a reality, not merely a "someday" idea.  It becomes an "any day, maybe even today" fact.

Perhaps this new reality with death changes what fear feels like.  In parts of my life, I ignore risk  -  perhaps even more since the SCA.  I went snorkeling alone in the Caribbean over Christmas - more than once.  At one moment, I felt unnerved, but I did not consider NOT doing it.

Then there is what should be the lesser fear, things you KNOW do not present imminent physical risk. But even knowing there is not risk of actual physical death, I swear it feels the same.  Standing here on the precipice (so to speak) looking at the abyss that is a potential relationship - it strikes.  Like a relationship could kill you, or worse yet, just idea that one day there may be the potential for a relationship - even this feels like it  might be fatal.  And this is not the small, manageable kind of fear that you control by taking a deep breath or two.  This is the big stuff; it is the fear that causes your throat to constrict, produces whatever the emotional equivalent is of a car's screaming from slammed-on brakes.  This is the fear that reduces action to baby steps at best.  This is half a step forward, five bounding, rapid steps back.   This is not a pretty sight.

I'm terrified.  Not liking it.
I think I'll get there. Maybe. Perhaps.  I don't know.  I fear that when my time arrives for a relationship that I will have raced for the exit at even the idea of a possibility.  People scare me - I think that's the truth.

Put this on the "to do" list for tomorrow - learn to love emotional terror.

Falling for Kindness

On a long drive, I was pondering men - again.

The men I have known have all been smart -  that is the one common denominator.  Some whip smart, some astonishingly quick, some deeply analytical, some mind-numbingly methodical, some well-educated, others with instinctive intelligence.    But each was smart.

Beyond raw intelligence, the group is diverse.  A 'bad boy', more than one alcoholic/addict, one manipulator, one who saw only darkness,  at least one with "mother issues".  Some short, some tall, some handsome, some less so.  One drove fast cars, one rode a bicycle 250 miles to visit, one taught me to drive a motorcycle, though not particularly well.   (He taught well, but I learned poorly).   Some readers, no cooks that I remember, one gardener, most loathed yardwork.

 At least one was a middle-of-the-road guy (you know the sort - Mom liked him), but I admit that for a long time, I was drawn to the edges.  Looking back, most were on some edge or another.  They took risks, the paths were unclear, having any sort of relationship with them involved risk for me.  Risks I usually took and perhaps even sought.

And now, I find myself drawn to kindness.  Kindness still wrapped up in some edge, in quick and unusual intelligence, in brilliant humor, in a life of successes and failures; I have never sought out simple.

But I think I am falling for kindness. It's a blanket and I love it.

"MEN" - re-Posted --- Just because I feel like it.

(from a few weeks ago - still torturing myself)

Men

Well, the title should probably more accurately be "Selecting men". Subtitle: Not a damn thing to do with Sudden Cardiac Arrest (SCA). Men - I have abaaaaad track record here. Starting as a child; my first crush was overwhelming; I was more than smitten; I was in love at around age 7 or 8. Utterly, staggeringly, feverishly in love. And the Object of My Desire? (OMD) None other than Sonny Jurgensen. Pre-Redskins; he was a Philadelphia Eagle. He and his favorite receiver and drinking buddy Tommy McDonald went to my church. Sonny may have been an electrifying quarterback, but he was a wee bit short of a model citizen. Boozer, party-er, too many DUI's to count, trotted out on field with a very impressive beer belly. He bordered on being a bum. Certainly in the "bad boy" camp. My hero.


Yes, this was my first crush. My mom and dad thought it was cute, which brings their parenting skills into sharp relief. A quick trip to a child psychiatrist might have been prudent.


After Sonny, let's see how my men-selection skills matured - turn to the Beatles. In the late sixties, little girls divided into two camps. The smart girls who would be good at choosing husbands - they liked Paul. You know, the cute one, the nice one, the one who loved one woman for decades. The good husband. Me? No, of course not. I thought Paul was insipid, untalented and dull. My skills took me from Sonny to the edgier John L. I was drawn, naturally, to the future heroin addict. Apparently, what we look for in a man is set at a very young age.


And so it continues. The ex-husband, old what's his name, is definitely in the bad boy camp. In his day, his looks, 'style' and persona were of the semi-dangerous ilk. While he's been called many things, insipid is not one of them. But I digress.

And now, I am drawn once again to a not-Paul McCartney guy, my current, unrevealed OMD. I think he's a step up from John L and old what's his name and certainly from Sonny J, but who really knows? Today, we are merely friends (well that's a crappy word - we are wonderfully friends, just not the other)/. I THINK he MIGHT be a step in the right direction, but my self talk goes like this:

(Angel is played by the one who says run, run, run away from this guy. Devil is we know what).

Angel: Really??? Ok, he is smart, quick, honest, magnificently funny, cute, kind. Seems to have at least the minimum level of introspection, but let's see - have I EVER been interested in a man who didn't drink too much?

Devil: the heart wants what it wants.

Angel: Oh, grow up. That is just an excuse for another round of self-destructive behavior. And now you have Skippy to think about - how can you do that to him?

Devil: Life is short. I want what I want. I love his company. He makes me laugh. I have fun - excellent, excellent, excellent fun.

Angel: Has it dawned on you that the list of incompatibilities is 10 times longer than the list of compatibilities?

Devil: Would someone please kill that Angel. It is really on my last nerve.

Perhaps I could make a dress or hoop skirt out of some combination of traffic cones and crime scene tape - all saying

"BEWARE - train wreck ahead. Train wreck ahead".