Long Overdue Post

Alright. Maybe I’ll be able to actually put on paper in a someone legible sense what it is that I’ve been trying to explain to myself. and Louis. But mostly myself.

I’m freaked out. I have moments of fear and I can’t (or couldn’t) figure out what was going on in this mess of hormones, chemicals, and neuron-receptors or whatever.

I guess I’ve always been slightly sensitive since the first weird strike/protest that I experienced. In my world, your work and home was safe, and the thought of anything otherwise made me uneasy.

If I’d hear what sounds like a loud group of people, usually in the back of my mind I’m thinking, “Oh, crap. Is this a protest?”. And then, not really on purpose, I kind of beat myself up for being scared of something so petty. I mean, strikes happen here all the time. Like 95…no 97% of those strikes/protests are more than likely peaceful. But the “threat” of what can happen, in a split second, is becoming a bigger issue for me…without me even realizing it.

It’s no secret to most of my colleagues, that if there is a strike/protest, I’ll either be working from home or working from Louis’ office. But I’m embarrassed…because…it’s not like anyone else seems scared. Maybe they are? (The weird strike involved a bit of panicking to get us into trucks and we were told to watch for flying rocks….I left that part out at the time.. But this one guy from Jamaica packed his bag, passport, and a knife. Maybe an overreaction…but at least I’m not alone…being a frady cat). Anyway, I am embarrassed and feel stupid because really, the probabilities of me actually being in an unsafe situation with risk to bodily harm is very low. So every time I have a reminder of the strikes, I have a small freak out, then I’m embarrassed, then I go on with life. From start to finish, the process probably takes one or two seconds, but it’s still something that happens.

I talked with a friend about some stuff that has been going on. I haven’t written about it yet because I don’t know how to write about it where it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but the last day of our vacation the Tana airport was closed down because there was an attempted mutiny in progress. Three of the mutiny attempters were shot dead. So. I’m sitting on a resort beach. With my fam. FREAKING OUT. Why? Well, I don’t know the severity of the situation (it was resolved within 24 hours) and I don’t know…anything. We don’t have back up plans - because no one knows enough of what’s going on. Our flight is cancelled then back on, then cancelled, then back on, then cancelled, then back on again. as our bags were loaded into the taxi, it was finally cancelled. At 21h00. We were in touch with our friend who was staying at the hotel we were supposed to be at (if our flight wasn’t cancelled) and he heard gunfire until 18h30 or so. This scares me. I grew up in a world where military are the good guys. where the police are respected and sought out in times of danger. This country (like many others in the middle east and Africa) has kind of the opposite. That night I had to put on a brave face for the girls, but I hated how I felt. It was like that feeling of my work and home being unsafe again.

While Louis was with the girls, I decided I needed to call someone to talk. But who? Here’s the a time where I have to decide if my needs are more important than whoever I call. It’s very hard to tell someone what’s going on when they can’t see that you’re safe. When they can’t see the resort beach and the resort sand. Where they can’t see that the “attempted mutiny” is in one particular area of the country – and the country just happens to be the world’s fourth largest island. So I called my dad. I made him promise that if I told him what was wrong, he couldn’t worry. (Uh, sure. Like, I’m so sure that’s possible.) I told him what was going on, that I was freaking out, and we talked until I was calmer. I’m happy that Louis had the girls with him and that I could have my little meltdown and not have them worry.

Since then, I’ve been more on edge. The first week or two back from vacation I had weird dreams, some nightmares, and I just got scared of random things. I was jumpy. I worried more about my safety. I had more migraines. And then, finally this weekend, after talking with a firmed who just really seems to understand how this insano-mind of mine works, I figured it out. I’m becoming less and less tolerant to the instability of the country. and that’s fine. BUT, I’m not at a point where I want to leave. I’m at a point where I want to learn how to control my fears. (Quick side note: as of Jan 2012, my home city was the murder capital of Canada ). So Louis and I came up with a plan. (I love plans). I’m going to make a list (I LOVE lists) of all of the things that scare me. All of the “What if”s that I have here that I worry about without even thinking about it.

I’ve been playing Dr. Google and searching on the internet about fear. When you have an experience that results in fear, the memory is like, hard coded in your brain. If a similar situation arises, or even a reminder of the situation, the same fear is felt, even though there isn’t a true “fear” experience. It’s like “fake fear” (there’s a sort of cool article about how they used mice to prove this). So, when I have a reminder of something that I’m scared of, I still experience the chemical reaction.


Another thing. I have to get over this idea that I suck because other people don’t openly talk about being scared. Or justify myself for having moments of fear. This might be a little harder for me to do. But I think having the list will help.

So that’s it. Here’s the big thing that’s been going on in my head for the past few weeks that I haven’t been able to figure out. I knew that I had wack-job feelings but I couldn’t figure out WHY or how to address them.

As many ups and downs (and big downs) that I’ve had here, I just can’t imagine NOT coming here. Apart from meeting my husband and friends and all that other crap, I can’t imagine me not coming here. It seems like it was such an out of the blue, risky thing…and look at the last three years. Wow.

Progress on “Project Fear List” will ensue, I’m sure.



[I was brave and decided this was public-ok material. Check out the mistress blog, email me for the password.]