Yesterday — 3 months ago
May – September: my nightmare
We’re on Monday, May, 12. It’s the second thunderstorm of the season (the first I was sleeping).
I could start saying a phobia, not a fear, a real phobia, is a great source of anxiety, and pain, mental, emotional, and also physical. I could know of several catalysts, but I can’t be sure which is more the trigger than the other. Maybe the real one is the one I ignore. It’s not a vain hypothesis, as I had regression of the phobia for some years, to simple fear.
The feeling I have when it’s coming, the end of the world. Which I know rationally won’t be so easy in reality. I’m being sarcastic there.
Usually, I stay in the bedroom, shutters closed, door closed, with tops in my ears, plus a worker ears’ cask type.
Some years ago, I even put my hands on my ears, although I couldn’t see anything, and hear very few, a very nervous way.
I want to experience, and give the more details I can, identify, and fight it, little by little. I learnt now not to give up, in case of a regression, it can happen.
These are my notes: (I say an average a little strong thunderstorm, my partner says average less).
Today, I’m in the bedroom, shutters closed, door open on the living-room, where my partner is. I only have the cask on, no tops. I’m feeling ok, nearly safe. On a fear scale from 1 to 100, I’m a 20. When it started, I was a 40, then between 10 to 20. And I put off the cask. But I saw a lightning from across the living-room, and it speeded me, up to 90. But it didn’t last long. I put the cask back on for a moment, and then when I was back to 20 or under, I put it off. I use device as phone or ipod while the thunderstorm’s on now, which I didn’t do before. I’m not so worried if the PC or the TV’s on. Not at all even I think.
With these observations, I can conclude the noise or thunder isn’t what I fear the more, even if it can make me jump if it sounds like a thunderbolt. Without lightnings, it is “under control”. My great fear haunting me is the thunderbolt.
I’m not super fond of electricity on general base. I’m very aware of the danger, but it’s not only that, I feel electricity. Even in my apartment, I don’t feel safe from the lightnings, unless they’re protections: shutters. My fear of the lightning inside is difficult to really evaluate, a 90 probably. Outside, the memories I have of being caught in a thunderstorm are catastrophic.
I had had a sort of remission in my teens, 11/12 to 16/17. It was aggravated when I was under the tent while camping, under the trees. The tent was flooded, and the storm lasted 3 hours. Since then, it’s quite terrible. I have difficulties to evaluate here too, but i’d say the fear had been a 250 for 2 good hours. So traumatic.
Things I noticed, before that event:
I felt less afraid while a trip in the car. The movement seeemed to make me feel untouchable. Deceive the lightning? That’s a crazy idea. Yet, I have in mind the traveler that never really dies, and the shark always swimming.
Something else, after the tent stuff:
I felt better in a big mall, with lots of people, lots of noises, and very high roofs. I’m not super fond of people usually, i’m even a very introvert. But then. It goes with this doom, end of the world, let’s get together.
I think my average scale fear of the thunderstorm, inside/outside, for an average thunderstorm, must be between 80 and 90. UNfortunately. It must be closely linked to my fear of death in the absolute, deeply anchored in me, and I only may partially know all the reasons.
I’m very aware the only thing I was really taught when I was little, is to be afraid, about mostly everything, writing about that precisely now makes me feel a heavy chest. My grand-mother was very afraid of the thunderstorm, she may have passed it on to me, for a start. But she nurtured lots of other things like that, God etc… Now I don’t have the same mind she had, I don’t believe God will punish me, but it’s scientifically I justify it, which is worse, IMO, because it completely rationalizes it. And if it’s rational, it must be true. It is of course, if you run outside naked covered in water, with a fork in the hand, a mobile in the other, near metallic gates.
In the same time, my “remission” years, when I wasn’t even afraid outside for an average thunderstorm, were when I lived with my grand-parents TOGETHER. When he died it came back; when I stayed alone with my grand-mother. My grand-father encouraged to try in life, and to have activities. He told me I risked absolutely nothing, just to avoid to take a bath with the window open, in case the neighbor had binoculars.
These are notes I’m adding, today, May, 13:
While writing the last part, I felt a terrible loss. I think I’m furious, because I wasn’t given the chance to know my real father. But the only one who’s ever been a father to me was my grand-father. It’s different, but still. The only mistake he ever did was to hide me the identity of my real father. But he did it because I had hurt so much already, I wasn’t even 12. I was difficult, I had character. But he didn’t give up. He treated me like he had treated his other daughters. He never made any other mistake. When I think about it, these were the safe, as the more adventurous years of my life. I feel very sad right now, I’m surprised I can write it so easily. But I’m also happy, to realize I had that chance, that luck. I still would like to meet family or siblings I could have, from my biological father. Maybe there’s hope. It’s crazy how everything is so linked.
My partner is encouraging too, he opens the doors, the windows. He lives. He has the good reaction, I know it.
