“Fear. It strikes silently but deeply. The pain starts to build deep in my stomach. A small bolus at first, then the size builds and swells across the entire breadth of my midriff. The sense of fear reaches up and grasps my throat. I now have difficulty in breathing. My whole body has joined in this reaction to meeting somebody. The person is not unknown. But the meeting is to talk about myself. Deep things within my heart. Can I do it? I’m not sure I can walk through the door, but know I must. The pain surges in a wave towards my breast bone. I glance at the clock and know I have just 6 minutes to calm my breathing down and reduce my pulse rate. I am so hot. I shake. Despite acknowledging what I feel, I still feel it. Fear. It won’t go away. I have to take it with me to see my counsellor. Shaking, I get out of the car and walk in. The room makes me spin. I sit down quickly and wait for my name to be called. All the time my stomach churns as if I was going to sit an exam.
She opens the door and smiles. I am not convinced but move towards her anyway. Fear goes in first and sits in a chair mocking me, daring me to speak from my heart. I cry for a while then the words start and fear subsides and starts to disappear in front of my eyes.”
August 2002 journal entry
© Marjorie H Morgan