Fears

I was reading a post at Christa M Miller’s blog, and was reminded of a dream I had as a child.

A recurring nightmare, actually.

I was being chased, and in the dream I ran into my house and locked the screen door, but was too scared to let my sister in.

Well, okay, that was one version. In another, my sister wasn’t there.

But what was always consistent was that it was a summer day and I was being chased by Hamburglar.

I know. It’s embarrassing to admit it. But that’s the thing about fears. A fear can be a legitimate fear, although it seems to be based on nothing justifiable. As a child, reasoning wasn’t going to undo that fear, in part because I didn’t understand what it was that made me afraid of Hamburglar. I still don’t know.

What I find interesting is that as an adult, some of my fears remain completely irrational. Some are quite legitimate, but there are others that actually consume physical energy because I worry over them, and they’re nothing more than sheer nerves about meeting people. Then, after you’ve met someone you’ve corresponded with a lot at a conference or something, and you email them and don’t hear back, you obsess over whether you did something to offend them or if they didn’t like you ‘in person’ or what.

I think we all go through it. I hadn’t really thought about it so much, until I was reminded this week that I hadn’t written emails to most of the people I met at Bouchercon. I usually do try, but for some reason this time it felt more intimidating than ever before.

Fears that people won't read your work. Fears that people will read it and not like it.

Strange what irrational thoughts can wreak havoc on the mind.

This is NOT politically correct, but it is from Uncle Charlie.

A young boy went up to his father and asked him, "Dad, what is the difference between potentially and realistically?"

The father thought for a moment, then answered, "Go ask your mother if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Then ask your sister if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars, and then, ask your brother if he'd sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Come back and tell me what you learn from that."

So the boy went to his mother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?" The mother replied, "Of course I would! We could really use that money to fix up the house and send you kids to a great University!"

The boy then went to his sister and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?" The girl replied, "Oh my God! I LOVE Brad Pitt! I would sleep with him in a heartbeat; are you nuts?"

The boy then went to his brother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?" "Of course," the brother replied. "Do you know how much a million bucks would buy?"

The boy pondered the answers for a few days and then went back to his dad.

His father asked him, "Did you find out the difference between potentially and realistically?" The boy replied, "Yes. Potentially, you and I are sitting on three million dollars, but realistically, we're living with two hookers and a homo."