On Becoming a Fear Junky

I have been writing a great deal about fear and its components: embarrassment, loss of control, forgetting what to say (embarrassment), unease, discomfort.  It has become trite to assert that one should face one's fear squarely.  But what exactly does that mean?  Fear takes on many faces: True fear occurs when one's life is in danger, which sets up a cascade of hormones designed to instigate the fight or flight response.  But in the normal course of life, there are few situations which lend themselves to real fear.  The fear which I have been writing about is the fear commonly known as stage fright: the debilitating condition that overcomes those who appear in public in some form.  And of course, that is not really fear.

So what is it? Why do so many of us shun the limelight, or appear in public, but only with sweaty palms and a dry tongue?  Why do so many of us shy away from belting out a song or giving a toast at our best friend's wedding? We call it fear, but is it?

We are self-conscious.  And self-consciousness says that we would prefer to maintain our facade, our mask before the world; we would prefer not to nakedly divulge our feelings and our opinions.  We might be mocked.  We might be derided.  The press may twist our words into something unrecognizable, quote something out of context that puts us in an unfavorable light (unfavorable to whom?).  People might object to our views, might vociferously object to our politics.  Some people may become downright belligerent when faced with our views.  And we do not want to be vulnerable.

I have lived my entire life in the shadows, so to speak, afraid to speak my mind, playing chameleon, abdicating my views, choosing the middle road, accommodating and pacifying.  Yet, there have been some experiences which I have embraced because they were difficult and challenging.  For example, when I chose to repeat a detested course at college, just for the challenge, and forced myself to sit at the computer for 11 hours straight until I had accomplished my final project, the message I was giving myself was: I will persevere.  This will NOT defeat me.  It is with sheer force of will that I will make myself sit here and complete the project.  Even on Thanksgiving Day.  This holiday will be here again next year, and I will always carry with me the memory that I put aside immediate gratification for the purpose of overcoming a difficulty in my life.  And I did overcome it.  In other words, I faced my discomfort, and vanquished it.  And in the process, enormous satisfaction swept over me.  A satisfaction which cannot be expressed in words.  The pleasure that comes from overcoming a difficulty is greater than the discomfort it created; somehow akin to bungee jumping -- why do it? for the thrill? Not as much as for the surprise and pleasure that come from still being alive at the bottom.

Which makes me now a Fear Junky.  Bring it on!