2005-07-07 - 10:07 a.m.
This summer sems to be flying by, and in rather a fraught sort of way - either I'm packing or unpacking, travelling, or turning around to find some sort of awful thing going on. I'm not going to talk about London, except to send up fervent wishes re a couple of people I know there; we spent much of the day talking about it, and I can think of nothing useful to say.
Living with fear is a strange thing. It's something I've done more or less all my life. This isn't because particularly bad things have happened to me, but some features of my life (e.g. serious food allergies) seem to have removed that sense of invulnerability that most of us have at least through adolescence, and removed it fairly early. Or maybe I would just have been that kind of person anyway.
But at a certain point it's just not useful anymore. I can think of at least three relationships, friendships, whatever, that my fear levels played a big part in sabotaging. And I don't want to let it start ruining other opportunities...
