Rule #7 - Learn to Forgive Yourself

People ask me what it's like to face my fears. Is it like staring down a tiger? Is it like going to battle perhaps?

In my mind's eye, I once envisioned conquering a fear would be like needing to take a leap of faith across a ravine that was so deep, you couldn't see the bottom. And the area was so full of mist, that one could not see the other side. Regardless, you still needed to make that leap and just had to trust that the wings on your back were enough to carry you over.

However, facing fear is not like that either - I think facing your fears is like looking yourself in the mirror.

Think about it: the person looking back at you is the only person in the entire world who knows everything about you. S/he knows your every secret and your every thought. There's no hiding, there's no lying. S/he has seen you naked in every sense of the word - physically, mentally and spiritually. There's no hiding from yourself... and that can be a scary thing.

Fears are illusions; they are manifestations from your own mind, in order to protect yourself. So when you face a fear, you are in essence, facing yourself.

My morals and my actions are all guided by one basic premise - the ability to hold my head up high and be able to meet my own gaze in the mirror unflinchingly. To me, there is nothing worse than disappointing myself. Nothing. It's the worst feeling and there's no hiding it from myself. I'm my best friend and biggest critic - I don't want to disappoint myself. I mention this because giving ourselves forgiveness is often one of the hardest things we do. And sometimes, it just manifests itself into a fear.

My greatest, deepest, darkest fear is relationships. The type of phobia you wake up screaming from nightmares about it. Really, it's more like 5 fears wrapped up into one (fear of commitment, fear of intimacy, fear of vulnerability, fear of losing self and fear of losing control), which makes it quintuply hard to conquer (but not impossible). I've read what others have written on the topic and they say, by far, it's the hardest thing they've ever had to overcome. Some, it takes them 20 years...and some never do.  It's so difficult that for the longest time, I kept it because it protected me. It protected me from pain and heartache. I think emotional pain hurts far worse than any physical pain. Physical pain I can handle; emotional pain I cannot. So I built it and kept building, like a giant fortress around me. Even though I was a Fear Conqueress, it was just too big to handle and too scary to face. Maybe I didn't want to face it.

I've always kept it a secret, mostly out of embarrassment - come on, I ride roller coasters, go ziplining, fly airplanes and run obstacle courses, but I can't have a simple relationship like everyone else? What kind of Fear Conqueress am I? And you always hear of men having these problems, what the hell is wrong with me??

I've mentioned before that you need to be ready to get rid of a fear before you are able to conquer it and although I don't think I'm quite ready, I did feel a crack in the foundation of that fortress shift this past weekend, after facing the fear head-on and letting go just a little bit. Another step is being able to come clean about it so it doesn't quite have the same hold on me anymore. And yet, another small step is forgiving myself for the past.

Part of my fear with relationships is being unable to trust myself and forgive myself for the past. All those times I didn't see a Jerk before it was too late and all I was left with was holding the pieces of my broken heart in my hands. All those times I didn't see the signs until after. All those times I saw the signs and didn't heed them. All those times I let myself get hurt because I was too scared to act. All those times I stayed in a bad situation because I didn't think I was good enough for anything else.

What's done is done and there's no going back... unfortunately and fortunately. "Unfortunately" - because it was horrible, "fortunately" because I wouldn't be me without it all happening. and I wouldn't change that for the world. I love me exactly the way I am now- bruises, scars and all, and wouldn't change me for the world.

So, from this day forth, you are forgiven, Heather. Forgiven for everything you thought you did wrong and thought you did to cause the pain. It wasn't your fault and I don't blame you for what happened. You did nothing wrong.

"For what I've done, I start again,
whatever pain may come,
today this ends.
I'm forgiving what I've done.

I'll face myself to cross out what I've become,
Erase myself and let go of what I've done."
 

Nikapotamus Rex

As a kid, my biggest fear was dogs. And fear as in all-out kicking, screaming, crying, running, etc. I've later learned that it came about from a fear of motion (roller coasters, anyone?) and later became a fear of dogs. It's no exaggeration to say that when I'd hear a dog barking off in the distance, my eyes would go wide and I'd climb up the closest thing to me, whether that be tree, car or human.

When I got older, I was able to tolerate certain dogs, namely the quiet ones that stayed still. The hyper ones still terrified me.

In college, there was a pet store next to one of our favorite college eateries. We'd go in to pet the puppies, with no intention of buying (they were all super-expensive).

However, on one fateful day, I was introduced to the most precious Pomeranian puppy. He fit right in the palm of my hand and curled right up against my stomach to sleep. How on Earth could such a precious little guy be scary?? I fell in love right then and there and called him "Gizmo". He looked like a little bear. It was even cute when he sneezed on me. I needed this little guy in my life.

Unfortunately, he was $600 - something I could not afford. My boyfriend at the time said he wanted him too and we'd try to save up (wishful thinking for a college student). So we went to the local pound to see if anyone had dropped off a Pomeranian.

A Pom we did not find, however, he became smitten with a Spitz mix named Makita. She was beautiful, standing up on her hind legs, leaning on the enclosure to greet everyone. I wasn't convinced. She was bouncy and considerably bigger than a Pomeranian.  The owners of the pet rescue shelter said we could walk her around to get to know her a little. They said they called her "Mickey" or "Nikki" for short.

So off on our walk we went. She was easy to control and was overly curious - wanting to sniff everything and greet everyone, although she didn't answer to "Makita". She seemed to prefer "Nikki". After that, we had an interview, papers were signed and she was ours.

I had to go to work afterwards, so I didn't get to spend much time with her. She liked to chase cats and could even "point" at them. The next day, however, was our first day together. I remember distinctly sitting on the opposite side of the couch from her as we both stared at one another, with a "now what?" look on both of our faces. I know I was thinking it at least...

She was very, very bouncy and loved to play - being only about a year and a half old. I'd take her on walks and she'd run around me to tie me up with the leash. She loved to lick so much that I called her "Lickey Nikki". I hated it... and she knew it, which made her do it all the more. When I sat on the floor in front of the couch, she'd hop up on it, sit behind me and lick the back of my neck. Even to this day, she likes to surprise me by licking my nose when I'm not expecting it.

We began to get closer when I took her to puppy training classes. Even the teacher said we had quite an amazing bond after the class was over.

I even remember the very moment when I knew that my love for her was different than any love I've ever experienced before -  She was staying at my then boyfriend's parents house and somehow got hurt. I wasn't there at the time, but either she tried to escape under the chain link fence or got attacked, but she was covered in gashes. I got the frantic phone call from the Emergency vet that she was in trouble. I zeroed in on her as I entered the Emergency vet's doors and sat on the floor next to her. She was dripping blood everywhere, looking quite morose. I firmly asked the nurses to help her to stop bleeding as we waited, but knew not to yell as to not upset Nikki. Then, me - the girl who was afraid of blood and fainted at the sight of it - scooted closer to Nikki, took her in my arms gently and never broke her gaze. I knew I couldn't freak out because it would freak her out. I stopped thinking about myself and only thought about her. I didn't faint that day.

My Nikki is also plagued with seizures. The vet says they aren't bad and they only happen once in a blue moon. She's only lost consciousness once - during one of the first ones she ever had. I wasn't sure what to do at first and tried to make her lie down. She went out and her legs started to shake. Now I just keep her where she is and just sing to her. Somehow that snaps her out of it. One of her favorite songs is "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas". I started singing it in the car (as it's one of my favorite songs too) on our way to the puppy classes. She loved it when I inserted her name into random songs, so before long, it became "I Want a Nikipotamus for Christmas", hence her nickname. When seizures hit, I also know not to freak out because it will freak her out, although those are the times when I'm reminded the most that she won't always be with me.

I think we've grown the closest after I tossed my ex out. She keeps me safe and I keep her safe from Thunderstorms. People steer clear of me because they are afraid of her and she's a great judge of character. Anyone she doesn't like, I steer clear of - PERIOD. Likewise, anyone that doesn't like her, I also steer clear of.

I may complain about it, but it's kind of nice to wake up in the mornings to see her furry head on the pillow across from me. Even more perfect when she licks my nose. She wakes up every morning with enthusiasm. We can all learn a lesson from that, I think.

We love to play 20 questions. She loves it when I talk to her, so I'll ask her yes/no questions. "Yes" is a wag of the tail (and there's different levels of "yes" - little wag = maybe to full on tail wag - "YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!")

Anytime I'm not feeling well, she's at my side. She thinks petting her and sitting on top of me will cure any ailment I may have and if it somehow doesn't, then there's no hope for me.

If I'm sad, she's there too. Nothing gets her to come running quicker than when I start to cry (well... maybe food. She's very food-driven). One time I was in a baaaaaaaaad, bad mood - all curled up in a chair and pouting. She came over and sat on me. Grumpy old me tried to push her off and I was annoyed, but she wasn't having it. She pinned me down and licked my face until I couldn't stop laughing. Then she made me take her on a walk, and an extra long walk at that, too. I thanked her for trying to get me out of my mood, but I really think she figured she wouldn't get fed unless she got my grumpy butt out of the chair. ;)

Sometimes, I'll just sit and pet her, telling her how thankful I am to have her in my life and how I think often about how my once -greatest fear is now my greatest love - her!! :)

The other night, I was faced with my now-greatest fear (yep - Fear Conqueresses still have them, believe it or not). I was crying and on the verge of having a panic attack. She came over to me, sat in front of me and looked directly into my eyes.

"What am I going to do, Nikki? I'm so scared", I sobbed uncontrollably.

Her gaze never broke mine and she placed a paw on my arm. Call me crazy, but in an instant, I knew what she was trying to tell me - she (or animals like her) were once my greatest fear until I took a chance and now look what happened - I couldn't imagine my life without her. I smiled and hugged her. It was just the advice I needed to hear at that moment. I stood up, petted her on the head, wiped my eyes and walked out the door with my head held high to face my fear.

In February, Nikki and I will celebrate 10 years together. Her 11th birthday is in August - she's just as bouncy and hyper as the day I met her.

From Chicken to Roller Coaster Enthusiast Indeed...

I've got a little update on entry, Rule #5 - Hands up! Let go!:
Yesterday, I participated in Coasterthon at SFOG - a fundraiser for Children's Healthcare of Atlanta. 44 riders had to raise at least $150 and tried to ride Mindbender for 9 hours.

Together we raised over $14,500 and individually, I raised $253. I was just shy of lasting 2 hours on the ride for a total of 27 laps. Later, when I felt better, I went on to ride Superman, the GA Scorcher and the Cyclone. 30 roller coaster rides in one day total.

Not bad for a girl who once had to be fireman-carried, kicking & screaming onto The Great American Scream Machine. ;)

You know... it's hard to believe I'm even the same person. It's almost unfathomable that there was a time I wasn't absolutely head-over-heels in love with roller coasters; they are just so much apart of my identity now.

Something to Believe In

In a book I was just reading, Divergent, one of the characters mentioned that the fearless ones in their world, the Dauntless, weren't actually without fear but actually just didn't let their fear stop them.
I've been called a Daredevil (and sometimes even crazy) for doing the things that I do. But there's actually very little risk at all in everything I do.

It occurred to me today, while listening to the song I posted below, that there are two different elements at work which allow me to do the things I do.

Number 1 (in more ways than one) - complete love for myself and trust in myself.
I joke around that I'm invincible, but one of the dangerous attitudes in flying is believing that bad things will never happen to you. By all means, be positive in your thinking but also realize that bad things can and do happen Realize that they CAN happen to you and prepare accordingly for them. Ask yourself "if A happens, what is my plan?". Be prepared by believing in yourself and in your training.

Number 2 -  Trust in others.
In these type of situations, one must also put their trust into others and give up at least a little bit of control. Others include other people of course, and also animals and the tools I may use in my endeavors.

The pilot prepares in case of an emergency. He (or she) need to trust in themselves and their training to get out of potentially hazardous situations. Also, he needs to put his trust into that airplane as well. Without either of those, he will not make it. The risk element of flying in an airplane will also go down because of all the time the pilot has put into his training, all of the maintenance that goes into the airplane.

The aerobatic pilot has all of the above and also prepares even more by having a parachute. He must put his trust in that parachute, in addition to everything else a normal pilot must put his trust into.

When I went ziplining, the only thing holding me onto that zipline was my hand weighing down the pulley. I had to have trust in myself and the zipline in order to do it. We were even given a little bit of training before we went up in the trees.

Same thing getting into the water with a beluga whale - I had to trust myself, the trainer and the whale. Again, we were given a little bit of training before we got into the water.

Roller coasters are no different. Have to trust myself that I will be okay, trust the restraints and trust the engineers. I did my own training by watching Youtube videos before I went.

Even walking on a high ropes course - I was attached to the line above me the whole time. Even though it felt like I was free when the rope was slackened, I was firmly attached and not going anywhere. I had to trust myself and that line/hook I was attached to.

Surgery - I had to trust that I was strong enough to make it through and trust the doctor who rooted around near my brain. We did tests ahead of time to make sure I'd be okay and they hooked up tons of monitors/cameras to me to ensure that.

Spartan Race - had to trust in myself enough to know I was going to make it and trust in the others who helped me over obstacles.

There have been many more, although lining them up like this it's easy to see that they aren't that different at all. Just a simple formula of trusting myself and trusting others and like P!nk once aptly sang in one of her songs - "Ever look fear in the face and say 'I just don't care'?"

Maybe, just maybe ... I am much closer than I ever thought of conquering my greatest fear. One that I thought I might never be able to face ever again, even after all of my "fear conquering".

Rule #4.5 - "Never Say Never"

This one isn't really a "no fear" rule, per se...

I just needed to make an update to Rule #4's entry. One year and one week ago, I wrote about finishing the Run For Your Lives obstacle race and how miserable I was. I conquered fears and did something I never thought I could do, but I said I never wanted to do it again. There was oceans and oceans of mud that I couldn't scrub out of my skin for days and I was in the worst pain of my life. Good experience, but never, ever again - I had said.

Six months after, I apparently forgot about the pain and signed up for the Spartan Sprint Race... and still wondered about my sanity. 3 weeks before the race, I thought I may have to back out as I was hit with the worst flu I had ever had and it brought it's friends, bronchitis and a sinus infection, with it. The illnesses kept me in bed for about 5 days and took a week after that to recover. I don't think I've still recovered from the sinus infection. All the strength training I had done in my arms had faded. I didn't know if I could catch up in time.

However, two days ago, on Saturday, I finished my first Spartan. Once again, mud covered every part of my body. I even found some trapped in my belly button. And once again, I was in the worst pain of my life. My legs are a bruise farm and I have teeny-tiny scratches all over. Yesterday, I had trouble keeping food down all day. Whether from the stress of the race or from accidentally swallowing bacteria from the mud, I don't know.

I had just barely finished the race, covered head to toe in mud, wondering if I'd ever get warm again, just starting to notice the pain in areas that I bruised/cut, and ravenously hungry. A person on my team said "See you next year?" and without a second thought or hesitation, I gave a thumb's up. THAT'S insanity right there. Not signing up for the race, but seriously considering doing another one while you are covered in mud and miserable. haha

So far in the running world, everything I've ever said "Nope, I will never do that", I've ended up doing. Started in high school when I had to run 3 miles in PE class. Our teacher was the Track Coach and he wanted me to join track - "Oh no, I will never do that". I joined track - just for one season, I told myself. At the end, he told me I could increase my speed by running longer distances for XC in the off-season - "Oh no, I will never do that" and I signed up the next year, as well as another year of track. My 18th birthday, I ran a 10k and was asked if I wanted to do longer distances. I laughed and said "Oh no, I will never do that. A 10k is long enough for me". The following year, I ran my first half-marathon. After the half, I wondered just how far I could go and did a marathon. Fast forward to more recently, the obstacle race craze hit and I thought "Oh no, I could never do that". Although, it DID look kinda fun... I signed up for the Zombie one last year and said an emphatic "never again" - and here we are. Gotta stop saying "never". Although, it's led to some of the best experiences I've had in life. :)