People consider me brave! They tell me I inspire them. They tell me they’re proud of what I’ve accomplished. They admire my willingness to endlessly challenge myself! They admire my fearlessness!
I’m riddled with fear. Constantly. Always have been, as long as I can remember. I’ve sometimes been swallowed up by it. This, I’m sure, is a human condition.
This is exacerbated for me by an anxiety complex. This, I’m sure, is a familial condition. I’ve been blessed by genes that make me prone to “fits” and “episodes” that reduce me to a gelatinous form under my bed with all the lights off and shades drawn. This confuses the dogs.