Mental health has become a bit of a trend in the past few years. Everyone realizes their deepest, darkest fears in the midst of a pandemic. There comes about all this self-diagnosis. This wonderous sense of mental understanding. You don’t actually understand.
With this sense of fear there came a sense of greed. You wanted more. You knew you weren’t living to your fullest. If only you lived a life of luxury. Then, you’d be happy. If you had what others had, you’d be grateful. You’d be fine. Who cares about being locked up if you had it made, right?
Save for the fears.
You carried these fears long before being enclosed forcibly. You carried these fears long before a disease made you recognize them. Agoraphobia is a term I know very well. Phonophobia is one that keeps me awake at night. Teraphobia leaves me stunned…
Things haven’t been the same since I heard that noise on my wife’s side of the bed. I fought with everything in me, but the adversary was far too strong. I shot in hopes of ending the fight and I know I hit, because he yelped in pain.
I never found the body and I never bothered to look because of the trauma it would bring. I simply closed the door to my room and went back to bed. It’s his word against mine. If he went to the court system, I’d plead that I was only defending my home. Let him run.
Now, I carry my gun on most nights. I am a selfish human. I carry it for the sake of my family, the sake of my pets, the sake of my sanity, but most importantly for me. My life. You never know what’s lurking around the next corner. You never know what’s waiting for you in the dark. It’s been three hours since the assault on my wife and I’m still afraid.
To give an example, right now I hear my dog scratching at its cage. I arm myself immediately, of course. I can’t see my dog, so how do I know it is my dog? Right now I hear cars passing in the street. I do not know that they are cars for sure, so how do I react? I’ve swept the house three times tonight. How do I know I haven’t missed something?
Come to think of it, I hear crying coming from my son’s room, but how do I know it’s him? I opened the door and asked him to announce his presence, but he never answered. He only cried. How do I know?
I called out again.
No response, only cries.
How do I know?
He say’s “Daddy, stop it. You’re scaring me.”
I fire a shot out of fear.
The room falls silent, and I ask, “ Are you ok now, buddy?”. He doesn’t answer. So, I assume I scared whatever was actually frightening him.
That’s a win for me.
Clearly, this is a healthy way for me to deal with the mental issues that come with being a protector. I have conquered so much in the time I have been doing this. Facing my fears, confronting external foes, and finding comfort in my firearm.
I just wish my family would talk to me again.
It’s been several days since the incident and no one has said a word since I heard that noise on my wife’s side of the bed…
Anyway, let this be a lesson. Stop idolizing your mental issues and start taking control…