Fear: Refusal of the Call

by Susan Scarlett

Fear is a homeless winged dragon, constantly in search of a place to land. He flew right into my subconscious in October of 2015 when I first heard the words “Parkinson’s” and “you” in the same sentence. Then he laid low for weeks, and from his hiding place, Fear ran the show. He made sure that I sensed his familiar and frightening fiery breath by resurrecting a memory of a Parkinson’s -afflicted ballerina and then firmly planting a picture of her just beneath my conscious awareness. When the neurologist said those two words together, I briefly heard his low rumbling roar just before sight and sound were blurred and muted. 

Even though I managed to escape being scorched that day, it didn’t last long. I recognized Fear because he has been flying in and out of my life since childhood, trying to find a home in me. His attempts to land always coincide with bouts of insecurity, lack of self-confidence, or conflict avoidance. He finds a home in those moments, at least for a while, especially if he senses that I’m in flight or freeze mode, and not in fight.

This time, with the stakes so high, Fear became incredibly creative and cruel, constantly painting a picture in my mind of Claudia the ballerina, a family friend who slowly lost her life as she folded into a Parkinson’s wheelchair. Feeling Fear’s ominous efforts to unsettle me, my husband tried to help me lean into the truth by asking the obvious question: “You’re thinking about Claudia, aren’t you?” Of course I was! Her reality becoming mine was all I could think of.  Despite that, there was no way in the world I could admit that terrifying truth, even to my beloved husband. To my utter astonishment, I lied to him.