What Has You Shaking in Your Boots?
February 21, 2008 by kfabrizio
Lots of things scare the bejeezers out of me. The idea of being attacked in a dark alley is frightening; I wake up regularly when the wind blows just certain some deranged killer has snuck into my house to kill me in my sleep; bugs and snakes are repulsive; and my daily winter drive on the deathtrap Interstate 90 has my knees knocking all the way to work. These are all scary things to me.
But, despite this list, I have three major fears in life. Incidentally, these have been my major fears for years, and despite growth and change in my life, nothing else has crept in to knock one off of my list.
Number Three Fear: Death by Incurable Disease
I was afraid of a long and painful death, suffering from an incurable and fatal disease long before I was diagnosed with cancer or M.S. Instantaneous death is one thing. Living out a long, dramatic death is another. I can’t imagine the effect that would have on my family. I don’t have the fortitude to get past this fear, despite a rather unhealthy decade or so of experience. You would think that this childhood fear (that began before I was a teenager) would have subsided as things became a little more relative to me. But, no, it lingers on. Maybe I’m just afraid of death in general. I think those who really know me well might agree.
Number Two Fear: Being Trapped in a Fire
When I was just a kid, my parents and I visited Cook Forest every, single weekend of the summer for years. We had a nice camper and spent weekends with my grandparents and all the other seasonal regulars at a local campground. It was a really nice set up. We had a kitchen and dining room area, comfy beds, a television, and our own bathroom and shower. It’s what the hubby and I might call “fancy camping.” I wanted to set the scene one evening for a nice dinner with my parents, so I lit a candle and put it on the dining room table. The camper was small and the back window’s curtains hung right above the table. In just seconds they were ablaze. Ever since that day, inside of that small, cramped, and burning space where I could have caused my own death and that of both of my parents; I’ve been deathly afraid of fire. I’m not sure I’ll ever get passed this massive fear.
Number One Fear: False Prosecution
I know. Death and Fire are common fears. False prosecution likely isn’t within most people’s top three. I think this comes from my multitude of years of being engrossed by crime and courtroom dramas – from novels to nonfiction; from stage to screen; from TV dramas to real life court cases. I have seen so many cases where a person is wrongfully convicted and spends years in prison for a crime he or she never committed. It disturbs me to hear of teenagers who confess to crimes just to please the police or because they think a confession will get them back home to mom, dad, and their video games a little bit faster.
Years before entering my career in the media, I considered a future practicing law. I considered becoming a prosecutor, putting away violent criminals. I considered a career as a defense attorney, but couldn’t bring myself to defending anyone who I believed to be guilty of a heinous crime. There are still days that I wish I could be a lawyer and if I was one, I’d want to work for the Innocence Project. The whole mission of the organization is to help exonerate wrongly convicted people. I have their number on speed dial – just in case.
So, now that I have M.S., of course, I’ve thought about how the disease plays into my fears. Obviously it is an incurable disease, but it isn’t something I will die from. I can go on to continue to worry about some other frightful terminal disease that may or may not enter my future. When I think of my fear of fire, of course I now picture a scene where I can’t move or can’t move rapidly enough to escape my burning home. And of course, all I can picture is getting arrested for something I haven’t done and being trapped in a small cell while facing the daily trials of M.S. symptoms.
While my fears are weird and even somewhat irrational, I know that we all are scared of something.
So, what has you shaking in your boots, or peeking out from behind a blanket over your head?
Bridges! There is no reason for this fear but whenever we drive over a bridge I feel a panic attach coming on. There is a car out there with my death grip permanently embedded in the steering wheel from my drive to the Outer Banks, NC. My family knowing my fear choose not to inform me of the “LONG” bridge I would have to drive across to get to the island. Having three young children in the back seat I forged forward…made it to the other side…parked the car and cried.
Brenda–I have the same fear of bridges. I used to have a recurring dream as a child, where the car my father is driving careens off a bridge and goes down–my whole family is killed– except me. I am adopted by the little elf people living under the bridge and I am fine, except that I am full of guilt that I survived and they didn’t. But I think my fear is more about guilt than anything else.
In my waking life I have more fears than anyone who knows me would ever believe. I am an Aries, so that makes me appear fearless and makes me a fighter. But my moon is in Cancer, so that makes me super cautious and empathetic–and very, very afraid. Fortunately, I have Sagittarius rising, so I am able to overcome my fears for a worthy cause. With the influence of Cancer, that cause is always defending innocent victims. I am absolutely fearless when it comes to protecting anyone who needs to be protected. That is probably my highest priority in life, and the reason why I think God made me. It is really the only thing I truly value in myself. So I guess even though I fear just about everything, I am able to overcome all of those fears, except the biggest one–the fear that someday I will not be able to overcome my fear when I need to step up to the plate to defend someone who needs me. I guess that’s where the guilt comes from in my dream of the bridge.
Sis, this reponse made me laugh louder than I cried when I read your other comment earlier this morning. You — raised by the elf people under the bridge! Did you imagine little Billy Goat Gruff as your pet? Tee hee. (I wonder if they would have had any cute trolls to follow around)?