Tag: fear

No. It’s not just a mirror

There’s a little story that has developed here. Spring cleaning the house today and a mirror appears out of a cupboard and my wife has said,” You don’t need that, that can go.”

The mirror

At this statement I jumped up and unusually for me I gave the wife a firm reply of, “No” and told her it’s not going anywhere, there is a story behind that mirror and I then poured it out to her. Just as I am about to do so now to you all.

The mirror was a purchase from a Sunday magazine sometime in the mid 80s, nothing overly expensive but it always made me smile.

I’d just left home as my father’s abusive behaviour had taken a more violent turn. I was ashamed of myself for deserting my sister and mother, but I was just so fed up of being attacked both physically and mentally that I just snapped and left home.

I was about 18, I sofa surfed for a while, occasionally I sneaked into my workplace at night and slept there, I was all over the place and then found a spare room for rent in a property close by to where I’d originally lived. I had some stability in my life at last and was learning very quickly about moving on in life and the new responsibilities I’d now taken on. I then purchased this mirror, and would smile when I looked into it, it gave me some much needed fun and laughter in my life. Something that had been in very short supply for a while.

Then one night I broke when my sister appeared at the door, to tell me my father was attacking my mother, I grabbed the nearest thing to me that just happened to be a metal pole from an old photographic enlarger and I ran like the wind to their house. I charged up the stairs to their bedroom and stood over my father telling him just how I felt, and what a B***ard he was. I was about to bring that pole down on him when I realised he was in such a drunken stupor, he didn’t even know I was there, but beside him my Mum was reaching out to me weeping and calling my name. What she told me whilst we were embracing there is highly private and will always remain so, the crux of it was that she never wanted me to leave and begged me to come home.

I was back in that house before he’d even sobered up the following day. And that mirror I’d brought was on my bedroom wall where it stayed for a good few years.

I told my wife the story, and that the cheap worthless mirror was a subtle reminder of the time I started to turn my life around. I’d overcome fear of a tyrant and become the protector of the two most important people in my life at that time, my mum and younger sister. And I stayed with them until they both stepped away from this horrific existence.

A cheap mirror it maybe. But it still makes me smile. The wife has now said it must stay and be prominent in the house.

This picture was taken today, look, I’m smiling as I’m deciding where to put it up.

May it see many more smiles.

Burn with fire

What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?

This kind of ties in nicely with a post I wrote a short while back, Just another reason to not go wandering. In that post I wrote about some of my relatives and their constant attempts to get me to travel to the opposite side of the earth and visit them in Australia.

But why am I scared to do it? Quite simply I’m a nervous, trembling Arachnophobic. I don’t like those little eight legged freaks. And they probably feel the same about me.

I can pretty much trace my fears back to my childhood, when my parents in their ultimate wisdom used to force my elder brother to take me out to play with him and his mates and he was never too happy with that. However he and his friends had their fun by stuffing creatures such as spiders down my neck, and it is that point, the fear was born.

If I even see the smallest of critters in my house now, my wife will tell you I go up the wall and won’t settle until the invader is found and removed from the house. This can usually involve hours of furniture moving and me running about like a banshee until the issue is sorted.

I’m not just scared I’m bloody petrified.

So, to get me to Australia I’d have to wear something like a flamethrower, not particularly a very PC piece of equipment in a hot and dry environment where fire spreads so freely, however in a country where every animal and creature wants to kill you I see no other alternative.

Probably just easier that I stay away. Yes that’s it I’ll do just that. Problem solved.

Have a lovely day.

(Flame thrower pic courtesy of Misadventure Lab)

Oxymorons are sometimes helpful

What positive emotion do you feel most often?

Difficult one this. I class myself as an optimistic pessimist, it’s a bit of an oxymoron I know but I can’t think of how else to label it.

I’m always prepared for the worst and I upset myself easily there, but I’m also looking for positives to ease the pain I guess. We currently have a situation going on where over the last few days I’ve really been no use to anyone, I’m breaking down a lot, mainly in private but I’ve been caught a couple of times and then I feel shame. I don’t know why but I do.

I’m sticking with my label, if I didn’t I think I’d go over the edge as I tend to think too deeply.

I shouldn’t be looking to the future as that can change in a heartbeat and why should I worry about what hasn’t even happened yet?

But I do.

I need to be thinking of the moment and nothing more.

That’s hard to do.

Peace all.

Life defining moment

Have you ever had one of those really life defining moments? A moment when you suddenly realise this could be it?

I had one coming home from work early this morning.

Heading up the A47 in Leicester on the right side of the road, when you suddenly see headlights heading at you at break neck speed.

Must admit I closed my eyes and a lot of untapped love for my nearest and dearest coursed through my veins.

Two questionable individuals in high powered cars racing each other on a public highway.

I’m safe now thank goodness, do you think for one moment that they spared a thought for irrelevant little old me?

I very much doubt it….

Thoughts 2/3/24

What experiences in life helped you grow the most?

My father was a demon. Consumed with jealousy towards my mother she couldn’t speak to anyone without being questioned about her motives. Most of my formative years were spent as a youngster protecting her and my younger sister from his rage. Going to bed at night as a young teenager with a metal bar under the covers to be ready to go at him should he fly into another of his rage’s leaves a scar on my memory to this day, almost 40 years later.

I always stated that I would never be like him, and all these years later I think I’ve done ok. My life is better than his, I have achieved more than him and I have never raised my hand to anyone especially a female in my entire life, so in theory I think I have won.

He still haunts me in my dreams though and it is as if I am still being challenged by him even though he is no longer here.

I’ve grown from this experience, no child should ever have to suffer this amount of emotional abuse, no female should ever have to live through that constant fear of an abusive partner. No man should ever be capable of such coercion.

But it happens.

Just not in my life anymore… I’ve grown.

Stay smiling, you are a beautiful person who deserves happiness.