The Fear

Two and a half years after I last wrote on this page I have finally got The Fear. (Something inside me is still yelling 'no you haven't!' But if I write it down I'm sure that'll make it true.
The Fear struck me when I realised that my life wasn't my own anymore. That my life had been given over to 'should', 'must' and 'ought to' and it was making me miserable. My daughter made me realise that I really am nothing without my happiness and all the achievements in the world won't mean anything if they don't come form my heart. I suddenly wanted to be all the things I told myself I would be but never quite got around to being and I have spent the last ten months spectacularly failing to achieve any of the life goals that I thought would make me happy.
So am I a success or a failure? At this point it is hard to tell. I can see that I am less cerebral than I was two and half years ago, but less idealistic? I don't think so. In spite the deafening silence of my achievements towards self improvement, I have to give myself some credit - I am back here with the same ideals and the same desires as I had back then. I have shown consistency. I am consistently big on ideas and small on substance. But I am here nevertheless.
I have just read through some of the thoughts I posted here and some of the work I posted in my other blog with my head getting higher and my chest visibly pushing out; it's really pretty good. It sits unread, even by me, gathering cyber-dust and fading into oblivion and now I am under pressure to make money, be responsible and a good role model. There is only one of those 'musts' that I really care about and that is why I am back here. I refuse to be one of those people that always dreamed of xyz, but never quite had the time to do it. I will not become a failure - so there's your answer.
Now I have The Fear. At least I hope I have The Fear. Perhaps The Fear was there all along I just didn't allow it to surface. So what does this mean for me and my dreams? Does it mean that they will suddenly show me all in a blinding flash of light? Well it would certainly make things easier, but I very much doubt I will spend much time waiting for it. So I have to work. I have to work bloody hard. Problem is I don't have enough space in my head. It's like my head is made up of a finite number of small compartments and each on contains an aspect of my life - work, house, friendships, partner, children, family and dreams. It's just that my writing doesn't seem to fit into any of those compartments at the moment - it's not my work, but it is more than just a dream. Might sound ridiculous, but if it doesn't fit into one of my little boxes then I find it hard to keep it in my brain at all. It might be one of those atributes that are linked with autism or OCD, but I find it difficult to make sense of things if they are not ordered and logical - how on earth do I think I will ever make it as a writer??!!
So where is The Fear in all of this? Let's change the tone a little and get a bit more serious. I have seen what apathy can do to people. I have seen lives lived that have never really been lived. I have watched people destroy themselves and they have never once mentioned their dreams. I have known people for whom dreams were replaced by fears, that in turn were replaced by expectations and requirements. In short, I cannot bear the thought of my life being lived along straight lines. I cannot live with the thought that I will settle for anything other than what is ideal and I couldn't live with myself if I ever let my dreams dissolve into nothing for the sake of ensuring security. I need to know that I have something better to move towards, that there is the potential for perfection in my world. I cannot ever imagine a life where I sit comfortably looking on and thinking of it all as finished, nothing left to do. I crave challenge, excitement, the new and the difficult and although I don't always realise it, I desire to be kept moving, to live like no one has ever lived before, to become legendary.
Am I afraid that none of this will happen? No, that's not The Fear. I'm afraid that time is becoming my enemy and although there is still time, it isn't as infinite as it used to be. I see an opportunity heading my way and right or wrong I'm going to grab it, not like a bull by the horns, more perhaps like a freight train that I hang on to for as long as the metal railing will stay in my grasp, sparks flying from the wheels and the wind slapping my face as my body sticks to the cold steel container wall. Sounds like fun, right? Perhaps fun, but also petrifying and painful.
I guess I'd better start running before the train catches up with me...