Tag Archives: fear

I’m sorry to let the side down, but I am scared 

Since the horrific terror attack on Manchester on Monday night I’ve shed  a lot of tears. Tears for those lives lost  , tears for the families with a part of them now gone, tears for those hurt and injured, tears for those who walked away without physical injury but who have lifetime of mental scars. 

I’ve been moved to tears by acts of kindness and stories that highlight the very best of people. 

I’ve shed tears feeling a city coming together, standing strong, uncowed, unbeaten. When Tony Walsh read his poem, as spoken about here, at the vigil on Tuesday night I felt that poem in my soul I’m sure of it. 

I’ve heard the lines we tell one another. I’ve said them myself. The strong lines.

“we must carry as on normal ”

” we can’t let them affect our daily lives”

“If we live in fear then the  terrorists win”

I am scared though. I am fearful. I’m terrified. 

My elder 3 children are teenagers. They want be out doing their own thing. I have to let them. Sending independent, good people out into the world? Well that’s the parenting goal isn’t it? 

Most anything my youngest at 9 considers a treat is in Manchester city centre. Her birthday was a couple  of weeks ago and for her birthday treat she really wanted to go to the CBBC tour at media city then then go to a ‘posh’ restaurant! You have to book a the tour quite far in advance so this weekend we were due to go. 

I’ve wrestled internally with it. Should I still take her? One half of my brain saying “you must go – you can’t live in fear”. The other half very much shouting “but WHAT IF ….??” Could I let her down and age appropriately discuss my fears? Probably not. I’m mummy. I’m the one who reassures worries. I’m meant to calm her fears, that’s what she expects from me. 

So do I brave it out? Head off to the city centre, try to feel strong and defiant. That “What if??” though, it’s loud and it’s chilling. 

Thankfully the decision was taken out of my hands and I received an email to say tours were cancelled. 

The relief was immense. 

I know we cannot give in to cowardly, vicious bullies. I know that. 
When cowardly, vicious bullies though have no  qualms in targetting families, in murdering children… 

Yes, I’m scared. 

I’m scared my boys might head off to a football match one day and be targeted. 

I’m scared my teen girl may go to a concert with her pals and not come back. 

I’m scared small girl could be out with daddy one day and become some evil, less than human’s victim. 

I’m scared small girl and I could head out on one of our jaunts and leave the elder 3 motherless. 

I know we’re still in the midst of grief and shock right now. I know we’re still hearing about these poor people killed, hearing their stories, seeing their faces. So very close to home it could have been any one of us.  Feeling guilty for daring to feel heartbroken knowing the friends and families of those murdered, those injured are the ones going through a torturous hell. 

Days, weeks, months will pass. This shall never be forgotten but  I’d imagine I’ll be back strolling through Manchester, taking the kids to sporting events, having one of my solo theatre dates. These times will come back around I know. Because love is stronger than hurt. Kindness is the antidote to fear. 

Manchester. You rock. Your strength of character and awesome people are inspirational. 

For now though-for today, for tomorrow. I am scared, and for that I am sorry. 

Feel the fear and… well freak out and run away actually…

I’ve always disliked the “Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway” phrase. It makes me feel like a coward for not ploughing on with situations that scare me.

My fight or flight reflex is weighted so heavily in the flight side, fight doesn’t even get in a look in. I run from scary and I feel OK about that.

Except that’s not quite true.

That’s the opinion I have of myself and let’s face it, self awareness and I are not friends. I’m talked in this blog previously about how I am so lacking in self awareness it’d be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

I shared this blog though.
The thought of that was scary – but I did it anyway. I’m glad I did. Even if it never got another view I’d still be here wittering on to myself. Writing down my thoughts helps me process and deal with what’s on my mind and that can’t be a bad thing.

The problem is most of the things I’m fearful of, certainly almost every situation I’m frightened of are because of things I’ve conjured up in my own head. The things I’m fearful of most come straight from my own brain. How daft is that? If that’s the case though, surely that’s something I can remedy.

I’d love to write a book. I know many, many people feel the same. Many many people then go on to actually do it (thanks for the books- you people you make my world a much nicer place)
Only I’m fearful of people laughing at such an idea, I feel daft for even just writing that. I’m worried people would tell me to take my terribly punctuated writing away and leave it to the professionals.
There’s no evidence at all that this is what people would say. Say I did write a book. Say it was the very worst book that had ever been written – so what? It wouldn’t have hurt anyone.

Stop being a coward Kelly. Go reread the thousands of words you’ve saved in that word document, see if you can make anything of them.

I’ve gone on and on (and on and on) about wanting to find the man out there who is perfect for me. I have The Boyfriend List, I’m good to go.

Except when I do meet someone who ticks off the boxes on said list I’m fearful.

It’s not what you think either. The abusive relationship certainly shook my view of relationships and men but I don’t for one second think all men would behave that way. I’ve had less than a handful of boyfriends in my life and unfortunately yes they were cut from the same twatty cloth. It’s not meeting a ‘perfect for me’ guy that I’m scared of though but my own judgement. My judge of character is generally left found lacking and that’s what worries me.

It’s me being a coward again, making up excuses and reasons to not just be a bit brave. Again – stop being a coward Kelly unless in 20 years you want the local kids to start referring to you as the crazy cat lady.

I’m fearful of messing the kids up.
I’m fearful of being a rubbish human.
I’m fearful of disappointing people and instead exhaust myself people pleasing.

It’s all nonsense really though isn’t it?
I’ve done some brave stuff.
I’ve been courageous and it’s all paid off.

Leaving the abusive relationship was terrifying, making the decision to become a single mum was a huge risk and scared the life out of me.

There were no guarantees it’d all work out, at times I couldn’t see how it could.

The biggest rewards have always come from taking the biggest chances.

I have to remember that.