I’d like to introduce to you Allie, a fabulous blogger and fellow Dr. Who nerd. She blogs over at My Marine and Me. Please check out her blog and thank her for writing such a wonderfully honest post for me. She told me she was inspired by my posts about my fears and I feel very honored that she would share her fears with my readers.
I have seen a lot of bloggers discuss their fears lately and quite frankly, it impresses the heck out of me! To write about something that scares you is extremely personal and gives readers a big look into who you are as a person. For a lot of blogs it is easy to forget there is a person sitting at a computer and actually writing it, and that can be for many reasons. Whether their blog is overrun with reviews and give aways and offers no personal information or if all you get is the fluff, sometimes it is easy to slowly stop reading and back away. But the bloggers who reveal something about who they are, something deep and meaningful and (dare I say it?), human, makes all the difference. Looking at my latest entries on my own blog I realized I have been flirting with fluffy for awhile. I haven’t felt personal or written something extremely meaningful in awhile. Well, maybe it is time to change that.
What am I afraid of?
Spiders and snakes don’t really bother me. I can squish an offending arachnid without having to use a blowtorch and I have held snakes and seen them in the wild. Am I thrilled about it? No. I won’t be poking them with a stick or having them as pets anytime soon, but I can honestly say I am not afraid of them. As a theatre major I have no problems standing up in front of a large crowd. I get a healthy amount of stage fright before a performance and if those butterflies weren’t there I think it would worry me. That adrenaline is a wonderful thing. I ride roller coasters, I can handle heights pretty well and I can get on an airplane with a simple prayer before take off… more out of tradition than anything else. What I am afraid of seems so childish to me, something most people accept as part of life and are at least accepting of it.
I am afraid of dying.
Honestly I was convinced growing up that I was never going to die. I’d live forever, I am me! And then at the beach one day I got caught under a wave while learning to body surf and inhaled a good bit of water. Now, this was not a near death experience, I was just eight years old and was held under too long and quickly saved by my dad. But it was the moment I realized my own mortality and it terrified me.
I know almost everyone does not want to die, that is part of being human, but I don’t know many people who are terrified of it. If I think about it too much I can literally start hyperventilating and my hands and face will go numb.
Part of me feels like this fear is why I wanted to be an actress… so even if I had to die in the physical world I would always be remembered. I’d be like Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Elizabeth Taylor, Judy Garland and all the timeless women of the silver screen where everyone knows their names. I wouldn’t be forgotten. When I revealed this to my husband years ago he asked the important question, am I more afraid of dying or being forgotten? I thought about it and sadly realized it was both. I remembered what it was like to have the ocean rush into my lungs and feeling such terror but I also shivered at the thought of just being forgotten. I know my family and friends will never forget me, but that fades. I couldn’t tell you my great-great-grandmother’s name or anything about her. I know she existed, but that is it, and I want to do more than exist in the eyes of the future generations.
Seeing it in print seems so selfish and so trivial, but no one said fear was a pretty thing. To be afraid of the end of your life and question what comes next (both here on Earth and to you after you are gone) seems petty, but one cannot help what they fear.
Oh, and bees.
I really hate bees.