Fear and Possums


For the next instalment of Alissa and Fear – lets talk about fear some more and the way in which I scare myself on an almost-daily basis, and why it’s ridiculous to be scared all the time.

As a child I was very highly strung. I remember wailing at my mother from the bathroom door as she showered, lamenting that I would never ever be able to tell the time, or pleading with my mother to promise me that my arm hair wouldn’t grow back black and wiry because I’d shaved it after following the advice of a friend.

I have my overactive imagination to blame; just see my last post which included an attractive little anecdote about me screeching in the street because I’d stepped on a passionfruit and my brain immediately deduced that I’d squished the life out of a frog, or refer to the time I drove off from a friends party and ran over a stick, which I really knew was a stick, but all the way home decided that it was definitely a baby possum and I had killed it and it was all my fault and had to text said friend when I got home just to make her go out and check that I hadn’t Jackson-Pollocked a baby possum on her driveway. It was of course, a stick.

Basically there’s endless examples of me being afraid of silly things, and while I can look back on it and laugh, it was definitely a genuine feeling of fear that I was experiencing at the time. It was something that I couldn’t, and still struggle to snap out of.

When it comes to writing, fear is what has held me back from sharing my blog with my friends and family. The comforting anonymity felt safe, and as soon as I opened my blog up to those that I knew I was expecting ridicule or judgment. Instead, I received a flood of heartwarming support which made me wish I’d shared it sooner.

Obviously, in some instances, fear is healthy. It’s what keeps us alive and stops us from doing stupid shit like attempting to jump off a cliff to see if we can fly. But in a lot of ways – and for me a lot of ridiculous ways – fear holds us back, self doubt stymies us and we only have ourselves to blame for not pushing on and following our passions or taking a leap. Maybe it’s a case of standing up to that part of you trying to ruin your day and telling it to shut the fuck up, or at least to quiet down for a bit.

How do you overcome fear? Asking for a friend.


One thought on “Fear and Possums

  1. I’m afraid I haven’t figured that one out yet. I think just realizing that going out of my comfort zone isn’t going to kill me helps a lot. And I’ll usually end up having a lot of fun and gaining a lot of confidence when I do so.


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