Who Fears Who or What?

How many times as a child have we walked home after doing something we know our parents told us not to do and feared the consequences behind the front door of the house?? For me, there was a few times for sure, I can still hear my own thoughts, “Why did I do that? Man, I am in trouble now! Mom’s going to ground me and Dad going to kick my butt! Argh!” as I sweated bullets with every step. Sometimes when I got home, the punishment was not as bad as I thought and sometimes I got an butt spanking that I knew I didn’t want to mess up again. I guess we call that, having a conscience? Is that what is wrong with our young people today and with parents? The children have no fear of consequences and adults/parents have given up? And why is that? is it the parents now fearing the consequences of disciplining their own children and the children feel totally in control, yet they can’t handle the responsibility or have the stamina and mindset to set their own boundaries?

“Trust your instincts, even if they are telling you something that your heart really really does not want to consider. It can save your life.” F.C.

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My Tunnel Vision

I can only speak for myself with regards to experiencing, tunnel vision. It wasn’t as much as a vision as it was a feeling, but to describe the feeling, tunnel vision does it. When I went through a traumatic experience, it was like the world around me did not exist, periodically I hear voices, I see faces, smiling and mad faces, kind and mean words I would hear, but it was never really comprehended because it was happening so fast and I was in a zone, where no one else could enter, I am going to call it.. my sanity.

 

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Yes to remain sane at a certain level I had to zone out, I had to keep the tunnel vision because if I did not, I would truly fall apart and be engulfed into a hellish abyss, surely never to return. That is how I felt at the time. I can’t recall how long I was seeing only with tunnel vision, but it did feel like a life time, maybe it was? One of the worst times of my life, yet my saving grace.
After a while I began to walk the tunnel, I needed to get to the end of it, while the outside world cascaded around me and I was feeling the weight of the world, I needed to get out from the pressure before it broke me.
I curled up in a fetal position, protecting, I thought, my heart and soul, which surely would of been swallowed up in the tunnel. I shed tears because it was the only thing that would aid in my way out of the tunnel, my lubricate of life, my tears.
Yes, it took years, to be able to stand tall, to smile again, to know its okay to be me.
Surely having tunnel vision is a place I never want to enter again, but today, I know I withstood the walk through, I held on. Could it make me or break me if I was to enter it again? I don’t want to ever have to find out.