Phobia vs Fear

Phobia is different than a fear.

I have things I’m scared of. We all do. But my phobias? Oooh, boy.

 

Let me give you an example.

I am absolutely, completely, 100% phobic of the dentist. Many people get some anxiety about the dentist. They’re able to push it aside, though, and eventually go. Me? I am not. I have to be heavily sedated or shit gets real. I panic and go into a full blown panic attack just thinking about going… despite having an impacted wisdom tooth and being in dire need of dental care. But due to the severity of my phobia, I am on the waiting list for highly specialized dentists in the twin cities.

I can’t just suck it up. I have been told by my problematic PCA (which is a blog post in and of itself, but due to my personal safety, I am not making it public outside of my personal Facebook until she’s gone) that I need to just suck it up and go. But. I have nightmares about the dentist. The anxiety is so severe I can’t even think about it safely. It consumes me. It isn’t just a matter of getting it done with, and doing something better after. I have to deal with the aftermath.

Phobias suck. But they aren’t fears.

Please don’t tell us to suck it up. This is dangerous.

And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me. 

I miss you, Beth. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that it’s your birthday and you’re not here. It’s not fair that I’m sitting in the hospital waiting for my ride home and you aren’t here to distract me. 

Nothing prepared me for losing you. Nothing prepared me for the heart drop feeling when I was told. There really are no words for that moment that changed my world forever. 

I’m changing, Beth. I’m growing. I’m writing a memoir. I’m starting to get published. I’m finding answers to my fragile health. 

I want to share with you who I am becoming. I wish that I could have you call me a dork or a dweeb again. To tell me things are going to be okay. 

But the person who told me things would be okay is why I am not okay. I am not okay. I am broken. I am sad. I am lonely. 

And I’m completely lost without you. 

And when the broken hearted people, living in the world agree. There will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see. There will be answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be, there will be an answer let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be, whisper words of wisdom let it be.  And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me, shine until tomorrow, let it be. 
I’m trying, Beth. I’m trying to let it be. I’m trying to stay hopeful and rise out of my hour of darkness. My health is failing. My depression is worsening. I’m spinning wildly out of control.  

I just need you to tell me to let it be. 

Love, Nora. 

PS: the ER sucks, I have a headache, and please tell me freaking ride to get their ass here. Kthanxbai love you.