This Fear’s Got A Hold Of Me

It’s the end of week two of quarantine. I think? At this point, I’m not even sure what day it is although I’m not necessarily paying attention. If I do, days feel like years. My life isn’t much different outside of quarantine. I work remotely and live cross country from most of my friends and the few gal pals I have here are much further away than just next door and even if they were just next door, ‘social distancing’ is still required. For the sake of human kind...I’m staying in. 

I have come to the conclusion that when we can get back to some sort of normalcy...I will be okay with not hearing the following words or phrases: quarantine, isolation or isolate, social distancing, and in these trying times...for years to come. In fact, I’m okay with never having to hear them ever again. That’s right...2020’s version of on fleek or bae or any other generational slang term that’s come and gone sucks. You can have these hashtags and shove ‘em where the sun doesn’t shine. 

My husband and I aren’t complete hermits. We do like to get out and about. And even though we lean more into homebody status, we do enjoy leaving our house from time to time and we like those adventures even more so sans a deadly pandemic lingering about. 

Did this really all go down because of a bat that’s neither sparkly nor named Edward and while we’re damning exotic animals to hell why in that same sweep are we mesmerized by a guy who has a mullet a fleet of exotic pets. Have we learned absolutely nothing? Society you are killing me!!! 

Years back, I got the ‘Bird Flu.’ It hit me the night before I was supposed to board a plane and fly back home to visit friends and family. I fell incredibly ill. I could barely breathe. Short distances winded me and I was achy and felt yucky all over. A few days earlier I had a one day stomach bug. I contributed this to that multiplied with a packed schedule before leaving for a trip. I didn’t think much of it or at least I was just trying to trudge on and get going on my vacation. The only thing that did help that night was hot water and steam and even that was a temporary solution. I canceled my trip and actually forced myself to go see a doctor. Again, I’m not going to a doctor’s office or the hospital...unless I absolutely have to. It didn’t take long to be seen...doctors and nurses alike could tell I was grasping for air. They could see the life depleting as the seconds passed. Immediately I was put on a breathing machine and sat with that machine for a few hours. The doctor telling had I waited any longer, I would have been hospitalized. He also thanked me for not getting on a plane and spreading my sickness. I was then sent home with a diagnosis, medicine, a nebulizer, and a strict policy to rest. Every day for two weeks, I had to use this breathing machine: morning, noon and night. For two weeks I was laid out and to this day...my lungs have never been the same. So forgive me for taking this shit seriously...screw it...don’t forgive me...I’m not sorry. You’re a fucking jackhole if you can’t for ONE DAMN SECOND think about someone else other than yourself....and soon I’m going to start calling this pandemic, ‘Natural Selection’ in hopes it takes out all the stupid, careless, twats. This isn’t a conspiracy. Tin Foil Hats aren’t attractive and damn if we haven’t been egging on a worldly shut down. For real. Did we manifest this shit or what? 

Really people think about it....if you all thought more about sunshine and rainbows and unicorn glittered farts...maybe the universe wouldn’t be throwing us this wrath? We’ve been talking about our world ending for years now...no joke...go down that rabbit You Tube hole for an hour or two and you will understand exactly what I am talking about. 

I for one live an interesting enough life where I don’t need to throw catastrophes into the mix. I’m good, y’all. I’m good. 

Moreover, am I the only one who saw ‘Nightwing’ as a child? A poorly made 80’s version of Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’....except these birds were bats and they killed everyone and everything in their path. This movie scared the shit out of me!!! And if this is all because one guy went all ‘Lost Boys’ with it then maybe ‘Nightwing’ should become a Covid_19 PSA. We don’t need exotic markets because not everything tastes like fucking chicken. And if there is such a demand, why aren’t there tighter policies on hygiene. Even our lettuce has turned on us....because someone out there who was probably getting paid shit didn’t care too much about what they needed to do. 

Do something....stop the madness...this isn’t the first time something like this has happened...when are we going to learn??? When are we actually going to change instead of just talking about changing? 

I call myself a foodie and I would like to think I’d try at least anything once but I have my limits. Call me boring, whatever....I eat meat because I don’t live in a third world country where I am fighting for a grain of rice...I eat because I am privileged. Meaning, food (until recently) is easily accessible...and even when it’s not, I can still make a delicious meal out of a few ingredients...a life skill taught to me by my beautiful, single mother. However, I don’t consider cats, dogs, bats, zebras, monkeys, bugs, etc...a delicacy. It’s not that one ingredient that’s missing...if you catch my drift?

I was positive aliens would land or we’d finally discover Bigfoot before we’d all be taken out by Dracula. 

I miss my library, Mexican food and doughnuts. I miss walking outside, among humans. I miss life not imitating a sci-fi movie. I miss not seeing people looking like they just stepped out of a highly toxic war zone. I miss life before the ‘Roni came in, took over and said, “Not today, bitches!” 

I miss all the activities! The ones I clearly took for granted prior to these strange days. And had I known....oh, had I known...I would have stayed longer on that trail. Savored every morsel of food I didn’t have to cook. Waited until the end of a last movie credit to leave. Hell, I would have started conserving the toilet paper months ago....had I only known. 

Despite my first world problems, I consider myself lucky. My mom is on the mend. My family is okay. My friends as well. I have clean water...a roof over my head....food to eat...and at least some weird yet flooding writing material. Hindsight is 2020. 

Today was special though. A blissful moment in the middle of treachery making everything bright and possible. It wasn’t much different from my regular quarantine routine of going from room to room, it just included movements that floated and swayed. A smile planted on a worried face. 

I received a beautiful compliment regarding this very blog. A complete stranger went out of their way to tell me that they were both in love with my blog and randomly drawn to it. Whoa. I am blown away...and in love too...when magic like this occurs. Especially, when the world is falling apart. Especially when I’m looking for hope in sad situations. Especially when most of the time I doubt my very place in this artistic existence. 

I usually feel like I am speaking into an empty void. That no one really reads my words...much less will take the time to respond to them but she did and I am grateful. So very grateful. Thank you again. 🙏 🙏

Becoming a bonafide writer has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. I once wanted to be an actress but found out quickly that intimidation and stage fright don’t make for great auditions. No, I much prefer being behind the scenes than in front of them anyway. 

This stranger essentially told me to not give up on said dream of becoming a writer. In her eyes, I had what it could take and in her opinion, IT WILL HAPPEN. 

Putting yourself out there can be terrifying. Anytime I hit publish, I shake with nerves for hours on end afterwards. What if what I write is absolute crap? What if what I write can’t hold a candle to other brilliant writers? What if this? What if that...running aimlessly through my mind while I wait patiently for them to wear themselves out. 

But they never do. 

They stay awake and active for days on end. 

But I have to persevere...I have to put the fear aside and continue putting myself out there. 

This woman said she has met some amazing people...and in a way...she was putting me in that category...and I am completely humbled by it. However, I will say this...because it’s time that I do...and if the Covid-19 has taught me anything, it’s that life is short and there is no room for doubting ourselves and our capabilities. It’s time I believe and admit to myself that I was meant for great things. I know this...I feel it in my bones-and although my life has never allotted such luxuries for such great heights, this notion has become more apparent in spite of it all. I won’t stop until I reach that peak. I won’t stop until I put my flag in it....claim my land and begin my settlement. I’m now the only one getting in my own way. No more excuses. 

These last two months have been utter shit. One chaotic crap storm after the next....but I’m strong and I know as long as I keep going...things will work themselves out as they should. They always do...life falls apart to ensure zero attachments to an old unsatisfying and unfulfilling way of thought. I am now a clean slate, ready for something bigger, better, greater. 

My life hasn’t been all lows. Many moments have been beautiful. Sure, some  have been disastrous but often times life has has been one beautiful disaster. A door slamming shut so another can swiftly swing open with ease. 

Many moons ago I took a road trip with two of my girlfriends. We were making our way from Florida to Colorado. We traveled to New Orleans, Austin, and a few spots in New Mexico before ending our journey in Colorado. We stopped in a tiny town along the way for some lunch. It was a quiet cafe with barely any customers in it and we settled right in. We ate, talked, stretched our legs for a bit and before finally leaving we spotted a vintage yet working fortune telling scale. We decided to give it a go. What would be our fortune? What did our futures hold? What would the Great Divine Scale have to say? How fat had we gotten from our trip and just eating? Lol. I was the last one to step on the scale. My two girlfriends got beautiful fortunes....something along the lines of “great things are ahead.” Simple and straight to the point. A fortune...not a statement. 

Mine was nothing like that. 

Mine went like this, “You will go through many obstacles but will be victorious in the end.” Was it happenstance or accidental? Was it a subtle nudge or an affirmation? Whatever it was, it was exact. The timing...uncanny. A quote from a memory I will never forget.

Doubts get the best of us. Our inner monologue dictating the worst. I’ve always written. It is a way to heal and release. I’ve always taken pictures...they are memories to my stories. Annnnnd I have so many tales to tell. I know how to captivate an audience...I’m just timid about doing so. I don’t want to be in the spotlight and even when I do get to shine, I have had more than one bully turn off that very light. People, although beautiful, can also be cruel and mean. Jealousy is an ugly human characteristic and I have experienced it at full force. 

I’m not immune. I have also felt jealousy...but that jealousy was never executed in a mean manner...it just motivated me to be better than I was or at least different from your everyday variety. 

I have strong intuition and I think this is the reason I clash with certain folks....but even at its greatest strength, it too can get bamboozled. Leaving me stunned and shocked and disheartened. Dismayed that a loved one can throw a blade far more fierce than any enemy ever could. 

I am not the same woman I was when I was a girl. I have grown. I have learned. I have climbed up from a dark hole I was thrown into more than once. All needed chapters in the story I’m trying to tell and write. 

One day I do hope to write an legit book...much like this blog but with actual characters and a plot. One day I hope my greatest wishes will come true and I will be victorious in the end. 

This forced lock in has stirred thoughts and emotions that are screaming for an outlet and some attention. My travels, same thing. Meeting those ‘amazing individuals’ that the stranger  mentioned....gaining momentum and grasping inspiration...all part of this driving force to make a dream a reality...so one day I can finally sit back and say, “Look, Ma! I made it. I finally made it.” 

Success isn’t just for a chosen few. The very term in and of itself is complex and composed of different ideals. One man’s simple life is another man’s desire. One man’s fame and fortune is another man’s goal. For me, I just want to be comfortable and happy and excited...and I am and if not...I am getting there. 

Truth be told....I’m so much more comfortable throwing my blog to an avenue of strangers over subjecting it to those that are closest to me. Not once since I started this have I posted it to personal social pages. Talk about anxiety. I admire anyone who isn’t bothered by the fear of rejection or doesn’t have inhibitions. I wish I could be this brave. Part of me would doubt the compliments regardless. I get it Mom...you love the way I write. Hahaha. Another part of me, would just think it doesn’t deserve the praise while the other part would question the praise while downplaying the pride, hard work, and effort it took to get here. Something I’ve always done. I can’t be good at this? It’s not allowed. 

Instead I decided to go anonymous. Incognito of sorts...at least it’s out there...empty void and all. At least it’s a step in a courageous direction. 

One day the world will know who I am but for now I sit in quarantine and create. Making the most of reflection and solitude. Making the most of this life I was handed.