.
Fear, Shame, Anxiety, Resentment

First, a thank you to all who commented on my list. Abbagirl, Austere, Mago, Laurent. I appreciate your words of advice, your kindness to comment, and your desire to help. To have you care helps me to not feel as hopeless.

* * * * *

I have two sides to my personality... the logical, reasoned scientific person, the fellow who looks a helluva lot like the image I have selected. I am a grey bearded, owlish, pipe smoking fellow. But I also have a scared, fearful, worried, insecure, lonely side too. When I write here, you do not see only the "semi-polished" persona I try to always portray to the tangible world. In day-to-day life I try to portray only the part of me that is strong. The part of me that is knowledgable about many things, the part of me that can guide, nurture, and support others.

However, here on this ever more important blog of mine, I attempt to reveal to you, my wonderful friends who care to read and comment... I reveal to you all the aspects of myself that I am aware of. My good days, my bad days. My abilities, my many, numerous, overwhelming weaknesses and failures. You have helped me as I try to sort through my good and bad emotions, my tranquil times of bravado and my times of utter fear and insecurity.

This is why this site is so important to me. There have been times when I have thought of abandoning my efforts. But I need to be able to remain in contact with you, for you have helped me to grow and to know more about myself.

Again, I thank you.

So, now on to my title:

Fear - I so fear death. Not so much my own, but feeling and experiencing the death of those I love and cherish. It is part of life, yes, but I fear it, and in my fear, I focus on it more and more (the "coward dies a thousand deaths idea). It is true, I do this, just like my baby brother. I hate that I do this. But I can find no way to stop. And with my mother teetering on that edge again and again, I cannot even imagine the fear stopping anytime soon.

Shame - I feel such shame that I cannot accept and love my role in my mother's life right now. I do work enormously to help her be happy, and do work to help her stay as healthy as possible. But I feel shame that I sometimes resent this role. I feel shame that sometimes I am sarcastic or too rushed in my time with her. I hate the many times I can recall through the years of my life when I was not as kind as I could have been with her.

Anxiety - I always feel anxious of late. It is such a hard emotion, yet I have picked it up and worn it like a winter coat in the frozen north. I cannot seem to shake the anxiety and this anxiety makes me inefficient, makes me slow witted, and makes me angry. I cannot get it to go away.

Resentment - I resent everyone and everything because I want my mother to be happy, healthy, and safe. The fact that she is not any of them regularly makes me feel guilty as hell and I resent having felt this way for the last several years. It is an enormous responsibility. And the guilt I feel at even admiting this idea of resentment is enough to make me want to shut down and retreat.

I am a pure bundle or raw, exposed nerves, and I think that I shall never heal.

PipeTobacco