From the moment I witnessed Tris's fear landscape I thought "What would I be confronted with in my own?" I've since spent considerable time digesting this question, using every ounce of self-awareness I possess to search my subconscious for my true fears, and I'm now prepared to reveal my answer. First, however, it is critical to delineate the difference between superficial fear and authentic fear, simply feeling scared versus paralysis of the Body inflicted by the Mind, as ones' landscape would exhibit only genuine fears. While a person may jump and shout when someone jumps out at them from a darkened corner, it's not likely they'll evade such places on the chance someone may jump out at them. The key difference, therefore, is one's tendency to amend their behavior in order to avoid encountering their fear(s). Importantly, I also suspect that a majority of people are mostly aware of only these obvious, largely superficial fears, while their substantive innate fears remain elusive; making a fear landscape a truly terrifying experience. Even after deep meditation on my own ugly fears, I'm certain there are others still more horrible that my Mind has pushed down into its depths as a defense mechanism.
There are a plethora of common fears that one might expect to see in many people's fear landscapes such as spiders, clowns, snakes, crowds, heights, dentists, flying, small spaces, animals with large teeth and/or talons, darkness, public speaking, needles, drowning or death in general, being told to piss-off by someone they have a crush on, etc. These are what I'd like to call finding oneself in an "I'd shit myself" scenario; uncomfortable, but not debilitating to most. Real fears, however, are debilitating. For example, for me, heights would be a legitimate fear and consequently would present itself in my landscape because I actively avoid places and events where I'll be elevated without any support to comfort me, such as a handrail or a solid floor. My legs lock and I'm physically unable to move, as evidenced by a particularly memorable trip to the CN Tower in Toronto where my friends thought it would be funny to push me onto a glass floor. The joke was on them, however, when all 240 pounds of me collapsed, crying and unable to move, and they had to haul my sorry ass off the glass before I could regain my ability to stand.
The Fear Landscape
Now, I hate to take a turn to serious town, but we are discussing fear landscapes, so here is mine: I'm at the top of an extremely long staircase without any handrails and someone from behind pushes me, as I look back I see someone I love and trusted; I'm in a darkened room, I'm sobbing and I've been crying for a long time, experiencing unparalleled emotional torment, tearing myself apart mentally and physically, my loved ones are right down the hallway, they know I'm upset and even hear my tortured wails yet no one comes to check on me, I'm alone; I'm walking through a room full of people but no matter how hard I focus I can neither see nor hear clearly, there is something I'm supposed to do but I can't figure out what it is, no one can help me; my family and lifelong friends look at me with worry and/or disgust, they say I look anorexic, they say I'm not fun anymore, that they liked me better when I was fat, I can't breath because I feel the same way; I go into a gym but every piece of equipment I try is broken; I'm running and my legs shatter beneath me; I walk into a room with tables full of my favorite foods and red wine, heaps of pancakes covered in peanut butter, chocolate and bananas, gourmet carrot cakes bigger than me, greasy Doner Kebab meat rotating on a spit beside all my favorite toppings, endless arrangements of decadent sundaes - one glass of wine and I pick at some baby carrots, after the second glass I splurge on some pita chips and hummus, after the third I lose control, my inhibitions gone, I eat and eat and eat until I can't think or feel, as I reach for another piece of pizza the hand I see is not my slight bony hand, it has transformed into the wrist of someone I used to know, oddly familiar, I look in a mirror, I am 250 pounds, I have to start the nightmare over.
Wow, that was sadder and more emotionally draining than I thought it would be; an yet, it was enlightening. Encapsulated within that terrifying mess, by my assessment, are these base fears:
Of Fear and Addiction
I believe that Fear is our Mind's embodiment of our deepest, darkest enemy. As such, this exercise (no pun intended) has led me to the following conclusion: For me, addiction is my arch rival in this life, and those addictions are my fruitless attempt to hide from my fears; but instead of escaping those fears, I'm drawn into an endless loop wherein I go from one extreme to another with few natural resources to break the cycle.
What each scene in my landscape signifies in its own way is a root fear in Lack of Control, and an ultimate Addiction to Control, which is extremely typical of an adult child of alcoholics. Though I have feed this addiction in many ways throughout my life; right now I use obsessive exercise and dieting to accomplish covering up the humiliating fact that I actually have very little control of anything in this life other than my Body mass. I avoid social situations, afraid of consuming unnecessary and excessive calories from food and/or booze, but I'm really only afraid that I can't control these urges. Though I know overindulgence will make me feel horrible, both physically and mentally, the first bite or sip and my extremist Mind says 'Fuck It, we may as well go for broke now. Go big or go home!' and a hearty night of guilt sodden self destruction ensues. Inevitably, the next day I will exercise for an extra hour and refuse to eat anything above the arbitrary number I've assigned for that day; typically little more than 1,000 calories, enough to operate without passing out while seriously edging that line.
To try and truly convey this inner angst I'll mention a line from an incredible movie called "Thanks for Sharing," during which a character states that battling a sex addiction is like trying to stop smoking crack when the pipe is attached to your body; yes, indeed. It would be so easy to stop this bullshit if I didn't need to eat! But how do I amend this behavior when eating is one of the primary essentials of sustaining Human life? How do I shift those obsessive, calorie-saturated, thoughts and start eating food again, instead of numbers?
These habits were established during a period of my life when it was a tool to attain my weight-loss goal, but no one told me that I could stop or showed me how too; that was 6 years ago, and I'm about 12 pounds under my goal weight. And as I've already mentioned, all this is secondary to my deeply engrained false belief that I can eat only when I exercise; that I somehow don't burn any calories unless I run on a treadmill like a neurotic hamster. Some people exercise so that they can eat whatever they want; I eat minimal amounts of low-calorie, non-processed foods to sustain my exercise regimen, and I typically do a piss-poor job, feeling weak, exhausted and defeated at the end of 45 minutes. Refusing to believe the ultimate truth: that my Mind doesn't know what the Body needs, but the Mind has spent so much of it's time bullying the Body, it now refuses to ask for what it needs; hell, even it if did, I wouldn't trust it and eat more anyway.
Son of a Bitch. I know all these things, that it's all bullshit, irrational and scientifically false. After all, I have a FUCKING MASTERS DEGREE IN BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES. Regardless, defying all logic, my addicted mind won't allow me to believe the truths which will enable me to break free of the cycle and finally derail the crazy train.
There are a plethora of common fears that one might expect to see in many people's fear landscapes such as spiders, clowns, snakes, crowds, heights, dentists, flying, small spaces, animals with large teeth and/or talons, darkness, public speaking, needles, drowning or death in general, being told to piss-off by someone they have a crush on, etc. These are what I'd like to call finding oneself in an "I'd shit myself" scenario; uncomfortable, but not debilitating to most. Real fears, however, are debilitating. For example, for me, heights would be a legitimate fear and consequently would present itself in my landscape because I actively avoid places and events where I'll be elevated without any support to comfort me, such as a handrail or a solid floor. My legs lock and I'm physically unable to move, as evidenced by a particularly memorable trip to the CN Tower in Toronto where my friends thought it would be funny to push me onto a glass floor. The joke was on them, however, when all 240 pounds of me collapsed, crying and unable to move, and they had to haul my sorry ass off the glass before I could regain my ability to stand.
 |
| My BFF, seen laughing in the photo, coaxed me onto this statue in front of The Luxor in Vegas; I'm about to have a fear-induced hurl from even this meager height. |
Now, I hate to take a turn to serious town, but we are discussing fear landscapes, so here is mine: I'm at the top of an extremely long staircase without any handrails and someone from behind pushes me, as I look back I see someone I love and trusted; I'm in a darkened room, I'm sobbing and I've been crying for a long time, experiencing unparalleled emotional torment, tearing myself apart mentally and physically, my loved ones are right down the hallway, they know I'm upset and even hear my tortured wails yet no one comes to check on me, I'm alone; I'm walking through a room full of people but no matter how hard I focus I can neither see nor hear clearly, there is something I'm supposed to do but I can't figure out what it is, no one can help me; my family and lifelong friends look at me with worry and/or disgust, they say I look anorexic, they say I'm not fun anymore, that they liked me better when I was fat, I can't breath because I feel the same way; I go into a gym but every piece of equipment I try is broken; I'm running and my legs shatter beneath me; I walk into a room with tables full of my favorite foods and red wine, heaps of pancakes covered in peanut butter, chocolate and bananas, gourmet carrot cakes bigger than me, greasy Doner Kebab meat rotating on a spit beside all my favorite toppings, endless arrangements of decadent sundaes - one glass of wine and I pick at some baby carrots, after the second glass I splurge on some pita chips and hummus, after the third I lose control, my inhibitions gone, I eat and eat and eat until I can't think or feel, as I reach for another piece of pizza the hand I see is not my slight bony hand, it has transformed into the wrist of someone I used to know, oddly familiar, I look in a mirror, I am 250 pounds, I have to start the nightmare over.
Wow, that was sadder and more emotionally draining than I thought it would be; an yet, it was enlightening. Encapsulated within that terrifying mess, by my assessment, are these base fears:
- Heights - As detailed above.
- Deceit - In some form or fashion I've been lied to all of my life, both by family and friends as well as myself. I fancy myself too smart to be fooled, but I'm also too trusting. Whether they intend to or not, when people one loves' deceives them it hurts like a bitch, which leads me to....
- Abandonment/Emotional Pain - Mommy left when I was 5 so I replaced her with food, and Daddy was too selfish to make me feel like he actually wanted me and my sisters around. As a result, I became a chronic people pleaser in a vain attempt to keep them around, so they wouldn't leave me like the others. Ultimately, this is why I keep most relationships superficial and push people away, relying on logic instead of emotions. When I let people in and give them power over me, I believe (to varying degrees of falsehood) that they will use it to hurt me; their departure from my life is unavoidable. I remain selfish because I need to keep myself secure, if not happy. After all, I'm the only person guaranteed to never abandon me.
- Weight Gain/Bodily Injury - I fear injury because in my addled mind if I get hurt I can't workout, and if I don't workout I can't eat. To me, sadly, food is my reward for activity and not a necessity of life. Though I do not understand its basis, I'm ultimately afraid of regaining the weight I worked so hard to lose; negating all the hard work I put in and rendering the relationships I lost as result pointless. Yes, I lost at least two of my most important friendships because of my mental and physical transition, and since getting fat again won't bring them back, I may as well keep the new body. I also severed most of my other relationships for good measure as they reminded me of 'Fat-Summer,' and I having new friends seemed to make sense sine I had a new Body/identity. [Ding, dong; fear of abandonment rears its ugly head again. Jesus, I just realized that I'm afraid if I make another huge change I'll shit on, and subsequently lose, still more interpersonal relationships.... Dammit, I guess its time to make that counseling appointment.]
- Spontaneous Obesity - This one is fun because its an amalgamation of my fear of deceit and weight gain! I'm terrified that, in my true extremist nature, I won't regain weight steadily but all at once in one glutinous night, one fall from the wagon; induced easily with only a couple glasses of Zinfandel. I also don't trust my Body when it tells me it's hungry because my Mind feels the Body tricked it into being fat for 20+ years; feeling hunger not because I needed the food, but because I was trying to comfort myself and numb emotions.
Of Fear and Addiction
I believe that Fear is our Mind's embodiment of our deepest, darkest enemy. As such, this exercise (no pun intended) has led me to the following conclusion: For me, addiction is my arch rival in this life, and those addictions are my fruitless attempt to hide from my fears; but instead of escaping those fears, I'm drawn into an endless loop wherein I go from one extreme to another with few natural resources to break the cycle.
What each scene in my landscape signifies in its own way is a root fear in Lack of Control, and an ultimate Addiction to Control, which is extremely typical of an adult child of alcoholics. Though I have feed this addiction in many ways throughout my life; right now I use obsessive exercise and dieting to accomplish covering up the humiliating fact that I actually have very little control of anything in this life other than my Body mass. I avoid social situations, afraid of consuming unnecessary and excessive calories from food and/or booze, but I'm really only afraid that I can't control these urges. Though I know overindulgence will make me feel horrible, both physically and mentally, the first bite or sip and my extremist Mind says 'Fuck It, we may as well go for broke now. Go big or go home!' and a hearty night of guilt sodden self destruction ensues. Inevitably, the next day I will exercise for an extra hour and refuse to eat anything above the arbitrary number I've assigned for that day; typically little more than 1,000 calories, enough to operate without passing out while seriously edging that line.
 |
| For an addict, the first cupcake is the akin to the first shot of whiskey or hit of crack. It never stops at one. |
These habits were established during a period of my life when it was a tool to attain my weight-loss goal, but no one told me that I could stop or showed me how too; that was 6 years ago, and I'm about 12 pounds under my goal weight. And as I've already mentioned, all this is secondary to my deeply engrained false belief that I can eat only when I exercise; that I somehow don't burn any calories unless I run on a treadmill like a neurotic hamster. Some people exercise so that they can eat whatever they want; I eat minimal amounts of low-calorie, non-processed foods to sustain my exercise regimen, and I typically do a piss-poor job, feeling weak, exhausted and defeated at the end of 45 minutes. Refusing to believe the ultimate truth: that my Mind doesn't know what the Body needs, but the Mind has spent so much of it's time bullying the Body, it now refuses to ask for what it needs; hell, even it if did, I wouldn't trust it and eat more anyway.
 |
| My swollen hand after a day of long, hot, hiking. Mentally I see my hand as it appeared in 2005.... NOOOOO! Despite hauling my ass up not one, but two 14,000+ feet peaks that day, because of this image I kept my calorie intake to an absolute minimum despite feeling ravenous. The hunger is easier to ignore than the fear. |
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| Yes, she was an absolute blast to be around, but I have to bury her or I, Skinny Summer, will always fear her return and never know satiation (pun!). |
The point of a fear landscape is to confronts one's fears, but I don't need a serum. I live my landscape, a revolving nightmare; I feel fear when I'm hungry (worried that I don't eat enough to support my exercise addiction, or that I'll crash from a Hypoglycemic attack), and also when I'm full (worried I ate too much). Constant fear. Sadly, one thing I've learned from writing up my Europe 2012 trip is that, mentally, not much progress has been made with regards to these obsessive thoughts. I need something, or someone to wake me up; or some way to make my own life so foreign to myself that I'm forced to change these habits (aka, by moving to New Zealand).
The Hope
Speaking of which, let's end this on a more positive note because, come Hell or high water, I'm gonna beat this shit; here is my Happiness Landscape: I'm sitting comfortably under a huge willow outside of my clean and warm hobbit hole, there are colorful flowers everywhere; everything is quiet except the sound of birds singing and the light breeze rustling the leaves; there are rays of sun shining through sparse clouds; I look out over the valley and see a meandering river and snow capped mountains in the not so far off distance; I feel intrinsic gratuitous love and acceptance that is constant and infallible; I run when I want to run and I eat when I feel hungry, without judgment and without worry; my mind is clear; I have nothing to do, I have only to Be.
Everything else, material goods, interpersonal/romantic relationships, rewarding vocations, worldly achievements and money, to me, are transient; things I can not rely on to keep me happy. They are simply the icing on the cake of life, if I can grow the balls needed to eat it.
The Hope
Speaking of which, let's end this on a more positive note because, come Hell or high water, I'm gonna beat this shit; here is my Happiness Landscape: I'm sitting comfortably under a huge willow outside of my clean and warm hobbit hole, there are colorful flowers everywhere; everything is quiet except the sound of birds singing and the light breeze rustling the leaves; there are rays of sun shining through sparse clouds; I look out over the valley and see a meandering river and snow capped mountains in the not so far off distance; I feel intrinsic gratuitous love and acceptance that is constant and infallible; I run when I want to run and I eat when I feel hungry, without judgment and without worry; my mind is clear; I have nothing to do, I have only to Be.
Everything else, material goods, interpersonal/romantic relationships, rewarding vocations, worldly achievements and money, to me, are transient; things I can not rely on to keep me happy. They are simply the icing on the cake of life, if I can grow the balls needed to eat it.
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