Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth." Genesis 9:13

Sunday, September 20, 2009

I want to know

A few days ago I posted about my fear of guns. I don't think it's something I've ever mentioned before to anyone; growing up in Appalachia guns are a normal part of life and being afraid of them would be considered pretty weird. And after I left that world it just hasn't come up. It wouldn't have come up now except that it had some minor relevance to what I was actually telling Dr. Mind and he was surprised I'd never mentioned it before, which led to asking why I'm afraid and while I had an answer even I could hear it was flimsy and didn't make total sense. Which means I partially know.

This has now started to drive me crazy. I want to know what I don't remember. The more pressure I put on myself to remember the less I will remember. But there is something, sort of a part of a memory that isn't enough to make me know anything, that keeps rubbing at my subconscious. I just want to know.

This is why I hate this kind of memory. I have plenty of scary bad memories. I choose not to acknowledge most of them. But the ones that my mind has refused to give me a choice about at the ones I hate. Some of my other fears involve very scary things. For example, I have a deep fear of basements. This goes so far that I chose my house based on the basement being one I could handle. Another house I really liked had a creepy basement and I'll always be glad I chose to avoid it because I'd never have felt safe. Even with the basement I have it has taken me 6 years to feel safe there without every light down there blazing. I don't let it be dark when I'm there, but it can be dim. I know why I'm afraid of basements. When I was very young, maybe 3, a person who molested me took me to a dark, dank, unfinished part of a basement and made sure I knew that if I ever told what he did to me that he'd keep me there. I have not been ok in a basement the 30 years since that. I can't say this is a memory I exactly manage to avoid; I don't. But I also don't give it a lot of power. Yes, I avoid basements. But I also don't let it totally control things; I do go in my basement all the time, I can spend time down there, and I'm not afraid. I also am ok in my mother's basement (which is really part of her house) and the basement of the last house she was in actually was finished and I lived there for a very short time, without issues. I even went to see my sister's basement when she bought a house. On the other hand, I will not return to her basement, and I am never relaxed in any basement. And really that's ok with me. I have reached a level with this fear that I can function. I'll never have a home with a scary basement (defined as such by me), but big deal. I know why I'm afraid, I accept that it's a good reason, and I have moved on.

In contrast, something like the gun thing I have no way to apply logic to this situation. I don't know why I'm afraid, so it's hard to accept that it's ok. I can live in most parts of my life without this being an issue, but at the same time, I also need to not be terrified of police. I need to be able to handle guns firing on New Year's. But it's hard to argue with a fear without being able to rationalize. "I don't need to be afraid because this is not the same circumstances as _____". "Most people would never lock you in a basement." "Just because ________ did ________ with a gun doesn't mean the nice policeman will". Except I don't know what those blanks are.

I'm hoping Dr. Mind has some magic trick to make me remember. I know he really doesn't, but I can hope all I want.Until then I'm just wishing I knew how to push it out. I had a patient yesterday who carried on a pretty long conversation with her poop. Perhaps something like that is the key?

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