Fearless

        It was a hot and humid August day in 2009.  From far below I could hear them yelling to me. "Just jump! Stop thinking about it and just do it!" Friends and total strangers floated in rafts or were actively treading water, staring up at me from the cool blue Chatahoochi river. I would run to the edge of the small cliff and stop, just before my toes would leave the dirt beneath them and nervously laugh. Stop, and take a few steps backwards. Others offered to show me once again how safe the jump would be and they, mostly attractive twenty something year old men would, run full speed ahead and let out an obnoxious battle cry or sorts and jump into the water below. Frustrated groans would leave my lips and then I heard it. It wasn't intended to be an insult or an accusation. But, nonetheless, I heard those three dreaded words. "She's too scared." Something in the pit of my stomach spun itself into knots and the noise in my brain erupted. It was true. I was too scared. Cliff jumping into God knows how deep of water was terrifying and it was WATER...but what was more terrifying was the thought of those people knowing one of my weaknesses, one of my vulnerabilities. Pretend, I silently shouted to myself. Turn off your emotions and preserve the one thing no one can take away from you. Self control. Give nothing away. Reveal nothing unless it is for the purpose of manipulation of safety. Don't smile and for the love of all that is good don't cry. And in a quick flash she appeared.
      She was tiny when she learned that brilliant piece of information. Fear, weakness, and most of all vulnerabilities were used for one thing, and one thing alone. Bribery. He knew I was powerless when it came to wanting to protect my family. He knew I was putty in his large hands when he spoke of the evil that would seep out and destroy others if I refused. The things I hated the most seemed to make him come alive. The tears and the struggle enticed and provoked. So I learned that the only thing more destructive than the actions themselves was allowing him to read me like a book, handing him over the secret ways to destruct me in seconds. My weakness, my fears, my tears became my greatest vulnerability and as such became my greatest weapon. I found a way to hide behind my eyes, become small and become as lifeless as a doll, and while it didn't make it stop, it gave me power.
      Food, for whatever reason has been entangled with my fear of weakness. When I eat, when I choose to put food in my body I feel as though I am opening the book once more, giving those around me a step by step battle plan on how to find and devour my very heart and what is left of my mangled soul. With each bite of food I feel as though I am choosing for it to happen, going back when at first I felt special, loved enough to be destroyed. I begin to feel sick and it becomes hard to stay grounded. Those God given warning signs that are overridden so often, blare to a deafening roar and it is my fault. It is all my fault. And I melt. I am putty in the hands of  my internal perpetrator, the part that I often wonder if I have created out of the evil that lurks inside of me. So I keep her there. That blonde haired, blue eyed, filthy child. Locked in a cell, a prisoner of war. Shut up I scream to her. You need nothing. Pretend it never happened so that we can find a way to live. I myself sit outside the prison walls, weak and exhausted...dirty from laying on the cold cement outside, keeping guard. Though I hate her i protect her, knowing if she wound up in the wrong hands she would allow it to happen all over again. Please i whisper, please just go to sleep. Starvation sings her a calming lullaby as depression strokes her hair. I watch from afar and allow it...too tired to fight back. I so all of this for you, you know? And then i hear those words, those same words he had said to me back then and I shiver. But she is asleep now and my eyes get heavy as well. Perhaps sleep will bring peace?
        So on that hot august day I ran. I turned off my brain and my fear and all those warnings of impending danger that God gave us as a human race in order to prolong and preserve life, and I ran. I didn't scream and I didn't squeal. Instead I smiled, reminding myself this was how I held on to power, this is how I stay safe. As the cold water embraced me my heart pounded in my chest. I felt sick because I knew jumping once was simply not going to be convincing enough. So as I swam to the surface I made myself laugh. That was amazing, I cried out! I have to do it again. Tears began to build and I could hear her whimper. Not now, I screamed at her. Not. Now. I am too busy trying to keep you safe! So I swam to the edge of the rocks and pulled myself out to begin my climb back to the top. Self control I whispered to myself. Self control is safety.