Failure… not being all that I was meant to be… never having had the courage to defeat my inner demons and live the life I was destined for…..looking back and saying “what if?”.
Even writing this makes me feel queazy and dark…..
Funny… cuz I have a lot of more obvious, more obviously terrifying, more everday fears.
As I kid I panicked myself to sleep every night…I’m not kidding… every night… thinking every plane that went over head was a nuclear bomb about to drop. Then I would have nightmares about being buried alive or being made to choose between my families life and my own. I had to sleep with all the lights fully on and my radio playing loudly enough to assure me that the world outside was still there while blocking out any sound coming from outside that might set off my imagination. That lasted until I was 18.
I am a terrified flier… I do it… but not without drugs, which sadly don’t help that much.
I am terrified of rats…. and even though I am very clever about avoiding them in the streets and subways of NYC I do occasionally I spot one of the fuckers… invariably turning me into a quivering shaking fool….
Since September 11 I have found myself frequently panicked while I’m on the subway, all my childhood panics seem to reemerge when I am stuck on a train in the middle of a tunnel.
I’m terrified something will happen to my husband and I will have to live the rest of my life without him.
After all the fear of death and destruction that has tormented me through a lot of my life my spontaneous answer to our question of the week when Nick turned the camera on me? To find myself at the end of my life saying “what if”….
It seems that my greatest fear has nothing to do with anything that anyone else can do to me… not terrorists, not airlines…not rodents…. not even fate… but rather what I may or may not do to myself…….
I guess there really are no victims.. huh?