question two

I skipped question one: 20 random facts about yourself. I did a post very similar to this a few years ago, and they all pretty much still apply today. So, onward.

Question two: Describe three legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.

One: Being barren. I know, I haven't even skimmed the surface of available infertility treatment yet. But after over two years of being unsuccessful, I say that this is a legitimate fear for me. What if the treatment doesn't work at all? What if there is a problem with my eggs and I don't have any more? What if I can get pregnant with treatment, but my uterus is hostile and I can't carry to term and I miscarry every time? I know adoption is on the table, but I haven't had to think about that yet. I don't know if I would be happier choosing to be childless over adoption. It may sound terrible, but for me right now, adoption is kind of a last resort. I want to try everything I can first.

Two: Abandonment. Whenever I have a bad day and snap at John, if I do or say something stupid to him (we all have those days, right? No one is perfect), I get a big sense of panic that he will leave me. Anyone who knows our marriage knows that we are fine and that he wouldn't do that over a stupid, hormone-induced, rude remark, but I still get very worried and panicked that he'll go. He reassures me that he's not going to go anywhere, and everything is fine again. I know exactly when this started, and it's pretty embarrassing. It started when Tylor left on his mission. Life got really hard after he left for many reasons, and I probably associated all of it with him leaving. It was dumb for me to focus all of the blame on that, but at the time I had no idea I was doing it. Now, as irrational as I know it is, I guess I'm afraid that John will leave, too, and things in my life will fall apart again.

Three: I'll begin this one with a short story I wrote for my writing class.

"Choking. It always starts with choking as the heat rushes into my face. The fiery adrenaline pulsing through my body should jump start a reaction to run. Instead, my body betrays me by making me unable to move, blink, or even breathe. My fingers and toes curl to clawed positions and freeze, knuckles turning white, so tense that it will take only a minute until they start to ache. Nausea whips through my stomach, causing a bit of acid to leak into my throat, adding to the pain from other areas of my body. My vision becomes fuzzy, and after feeling the intensity of the heat in my head and lack of oxygen, I start to become dizzy. Tears begin stinging my unmoving eyes, either from the fear or from not blinking. If the enemy were to attack, I wouldn't have the ability to defend myself.

"My body, relentless and showing no signs of releasing me from my paralysis, forces me to helplessly stare at my attacker until I finally find some relief. A shred of mercy comes from my lungs, allowing a tiny bit of air to escape, promising to become a whimper. As the air reaches my throat, I focus all of my strength on relaxing just enough so the sound can escape. Once it leaves my lips, each vocalization after becomes easier and easier to make. A pitiful call from a helpless mess.

"After my hero comes to vanquish the villain, tears spill down my cheeks and my weak legs finally release and let me hobble away from the danger. The stiffness slowly melts and leaves my whole body shaky, and I curl into a ball in an effort to calm myself down. My head is left with a sharp pain in my temples and behind my eyes, and my hearing is muffled, as if it's shutting down. Now, it's hard to tell if the shuddering is from my weakened muscles or from the sobs escaping my lungs, like I'm learning to breathe for the first time.

"After many long minutes I have finally calmed down. I glance up at my hero, tear streaked, weak, exhausted, and in pain, to offer thanks. In reply, I hear, 'You really need to learn to kill your own spiders.'"

 Spiders. I am mostly over this now, but if a big, ugly one surprises me once in a while I am still known to have a panic attack. I cannot honestly say when it began. I really have no idea. I have a memory of my dad being bit by a black widow when he was climbing under our house once, and hearing that it was really, really bad and that he could die. I think it's a false memory, albeit a very vivid one, because I asked my mom once if this happened, and she said it didn't. Perhaps it was in a movie I saw when I was young or something. Anyway, it's really hard for me to let people read my writing. So, I don't expect any comments on it. I already know it's not my best (it's kind of wordy... and has a lot of commas), so it's just for entertainment purposes only.