fear

In the grip of other intense emotions, like grief and jealousy, we might feel anguish, but fear shuts us down, arrests the life force—to be driven by fear is like dying inside.

Sharon Salzberg, "Faith"
In the Face of Fear

minor confessions

I sneak Scooby Doo fruit snacks from my own pantry every night. I stare, practically paralyzed, at my child after he has fallen asleep. I smell his hair, listen to his breathing, and feel his tiny shoulder with my hand. I am afraid of almost everything. I rip up my cuticles when I'm preoccupied or nervous. I don't want to join the PTA. I sing 80s rock ballads really loud in my car because I know all the words. I love watching Family Feud and Murder She Wrote. I think I'm recovering from a case of Athlete's Foot, but I have no idea how I got it. I sometimes wish I could be a big, black jazz singer in a red sequined dress instead of a skinny white girl with anxiety issues. I have no idea what I'm doing. I always cry when I'm angry; it makes my face puffy and purple, but my eyes turn an amazing shade of electric blue. I am alternately fearful of and content with my own hypocrisy. I have been terrified of vomiting since I was six. I feel like I'm always a step behind. I've been systematically sneaking Liam's Easter candy. I love bologna (the meat product, not the city). Someday I would like to travel to India, but I'm scared of what my phobia would do to me while I was there. The second toe on my left foot is longer than that on my right and I have an extra set of ribs. When I was born I was pigeon-toed and had to wear leg braces as a toddler to straighten out my feet. I like my freckles now. I have nightmares that my hair is long again and wake up in a panic. Sometimes I get sick of hearing my own voice.