Reflections on Fear

Wendy asked me a question that really made me think.....why am I afraid to go walking?

I instantly remembered a few occasions as a teenager and adult where I really felt fear.

I remembered having a big argument with Maxine a few weeks ago because she began walking down a pathway that I was too afraid to follow her down, because it was a little dark, and she wouldn't come back to me and I panicked.

I remembered always walking a friend home during weekends and holidays, who stayed in the caravan park next to where we stayed. I would always walk her home because she was slightly younger than me, but I hated walking back on my own. It was a short, straight, stretch of road, that was lined with trees and very poorly lit. I would sprint as fast as I could every time, petrified someone or something would jump out at me.

I remembered being with friends on the beach one night, and my friend and I had gone to the toilets, luckily we had shared a single cubicle, because someone started banging on the door trying to open it. I leaned against and held that door for all I was worth, because I knew my friend and I were in terrible danger. And we shouted at him and said our other friends were on their way, and, luckily, he left. I was terrified, but I knew my friend was even more more frightened, and I had to protect her. (Yes, Kidgy, that time)

And I remembered coming home late one night, and I saw the light on in the changing room by the swimming pool at my parents house, with movement inside. I assumed my dad had gone for a swim, and started walking towards the changing room, but then didn't want to startle him, so decided against it and went inside the house instead. I mentioned it to my dad in the morning, who said he hadn't been swimming the previous night.....the changing room had been ransacked.

The toilet and the changing room near misses were significant memories for me.......I didn't feel 'lucky', I felt 'watched over'.

And, as an adult, I was once alone in the office and the front door hadn't been locked, and a man let himself in, and I was again terrified.....but I calmly chatted to him, and got him to leave before I locked the door. He probably didn't mean me any harm at all....

When I am on my own, I feel quite fearful that harm will come to me....sounds really odd coming from me, because, outwardly, I put on such a brave face, even when I am petrified. Really odd coming from the girl who would happily jump off railway bridges into the lagoon water below, or catch a bus down to Port Shepstone to visit a friend - the only white face on the bus.

And so, at the end of it all, I don't really know why I am afraid to walk on my own....but I am!