There is a book ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway’ by Susan Jeffers. I love the title of the book. It’s a motto I hold, although I don’t act on it anywhere near often enough. The first time I did something solely because I was afraid was when I was invited to join a group of girls going away for a weekend. I knew that they were acquaintances and not friends. I knew that they were friends with each other. I knew that someone I feel responsible for would be there, and that whatever I did would be wrong. I chose to go knowing it all. Precisely because I was afraid.
What is the worst that could happen?
Yesterday evening I went out with some co-workers. The first time my co-workers had an evening together, some 4 years or so ago, I never went. I was too afraid to do it. Eventually I went, helping out in the kitchen. At this point, I would go. For what is the worst that could happen? If what I’m afraid of comes true, so what? There have been evenings that I’ve gone to that have way surpassed my expectations, like the last wedding I went to when I went late, and it was actually nice to see all these random people. There have been evenings that have been exactly as I knew they would. Staying at the side not by choice but by inevitability. Anything I say just not being heard. Being invisible in a crowd. And so? So I’ve been invisible amongst a crowd. So, effing, what? What happens if I’m alone? What happens if I’m just not a part? What happens if I put my foot into my mouth yet again? Nothing. That’s what.
So I have to ask someone for a favour today. I’m afraid to. The very worst is that she’ll be upset with me for asking and will tell me no way. And if she does? So damn what? Nothing. That’s what. Nothing happens if she is upset with me. Nothing happens if she says no. At least I’ll have asked. I’ll have the knowledge of knowing that I did my part.
At one time I never wanted to try again (to stop using) because I knew it was pointless. Hell, yeah, it may have been pointless. As fear told me. Because I would go back to it. And I’d be a failure. Am I a failure for trying? No. Have I failed? Numerous times. But what counts as failing? Trying? Trying again? Trying again? That’s not failure. Failure would be failing to try yet again. Failure would be using painkillers today because it’s inevitable that one day I’ll be using them all day again. Failure would be picking up something to cut or burn just because I will one day again. Am I afraid that I will one day go back to them? Of course. I pretty much know that I will. But I also know that I never know what will be. I’m afraid of it. But I’m facing the fear and doing it anyways. I wouldn’t say feeling the fear, as I’m not feeling it, but facing it, that I am doing.
The last time I flew I was dizzy. Extremely dizzy. Enough so that when I was standing I was blacking out, and I don’t recall what else as, I was blacking out (was standing in the aisle of the plane gripping the seats, and the blackness just wasn’t passing). They gave me oxygen. I haven’t told anyone about it as I can’t be bothered for the fuss (I did call my dr when I got home). I’m afraid of going in a plane again and being dizzy again. Yet, what’s the worst that will happen? I don’t know what made me that dizzy. I had enough drink and food. It was probably just the different air pressure, which, does affect me. So I’m nervous of flying. Yet the worst is that I’m once again dizzy and begin blacking out. That’s all that can happen. I’m going to be flying across the world again in a few weeks time.
Face the fear. You never know what can or will happen. Have you ever faced the fear and having known the worst case scenario, been prepared for it? Have you ever faced the fear and been pleasantly surprised at the results?