This is a perfect descriptive picture of what my life has been like for the past four plus months:
Photo courtesy of Photos8.com
From Bill being sick, to his kidneys shutting down, to his diagnosis of multiple myeloma, to a prostate cancer scare, to looking at a possible year of chemotherapy, I have been scared to the point of being frozen with fear. When I have looked out of my (perhaps) self-imposed cage, the view was no better. Wars, earthquakes, natural disasters. Unrest. Anger. Political vitriol is hard to escape – it seems to have invaded everything. Prices keep going up and packaging keeps getting smaller. Everywhere I looked the message seemed to be saying that yes, the world was beginning to come to an end.
If my outer world felt like a barbed wire cage, my inner world provided no solace. Another pictorial description:
Photo courtesy of Photos8.com
I have felt like this more days than not. The screams could find no voice and even if I could make a sound, I felt there were no ears to hear it. I did talk to Bill but I didn’t want to hinder his healing with my being maudlin. Before you get too worried about me, the fact that I am writing about it means that I am finding my way out of the cage. Look at the first picture again, there is an opening there at the bottom right.
Fear is an interesting thing. I’ve never realized its power until now. It really can paralyze you. I don’t know how I let it overcome me but it did and I didn’t like it, but then who does?
I’ve tried to justify it with no satisfaction. Mostly I’ve just let it creep into anything and everything. And the worst part is that it made me emotionally fragile and physically sick myself. Every moment I was waiting on the next bit of bad news and catastrophe. I actively searched for evidence that everything was going bad and of course, I found it.
Here’s what I’ve been so scared about:
- Fear of losing Bill
- Fear of losing myself
- Fear of losing Pamelot
- Fear of losing my lifestyle
- Fear of losing my faith
- Fear of losing my creativity
- Fear of losing my talent
- Fear of losing my world
As many know, I will not touch my fabric or bags if I can’t do it in total love. Well, I’ve not been able to do that while living in fear. The last bag I created was this one:
I was so darned proud of that bag. I grinned and grinned while I used it. For one lousy day. Then the vinyl on one of the D-rings started tearing. It was unusable and I was devastated! I was more devastated than a person should be. I mourned for that bag. It sat in the studio for months. I would see it every day and mourn it all over again. My mind was so muddled by fear that I could find no solution, just sadness and shame.
Why shame? I have been sewing for 80% of my life. My first sewing teacher was a wicked taskmaster. She insisted that my work be perfect. If it wasn’t, I had to rip out my work and do it again and again until it was perfect. I learned relatively fast how to do things right the first time. Of the hundreds of bags I have made, I have never had one fail like this. When I am making a bag, it has been built over and over in my head before I ever cut fabric. I never have to rip out seams because I am doing something I’ve done many times before. So this beautiful bag, the best one I had ever made, failed on its first day of use. In my world, that is shame.
A week ago tomorrow, I deconstructed most of this bag. The problem with doing this is sewing on vinyl (and leather) leaves irreparable holes. For weeks I had been trying to find a way to fix it only to come up empty. When I started ripping out seams, I still had no solution and was going to salvage the lining and just make a new bag. My heart hurt every time I thought about that. Just before I started on the zipper seams, I had a thought. I could see a doubled reinforced D-Ring tab that should withstand the forces the weight of the bag would place on it. I made a sample tab and pulled and pulled on it. It didn’t rip. So I engineered new tabs that would cover the needle holes, sewed them on and re-made the bag. (All the while holding my breath.)
So far, so good. But. Something in me won’t allow myself to be as proud as I was the first time around. The bag actually looks better and I do love it. But back at the same time when my wicked sewing teacher was demanding that I be perfect, religion was being literally beat into me too. “Pride goeth before a fall.” Proverbs 16:18. And yes, I did learn “fear of the lord.” In my twisted and fearful world, I wondered if my beautiful bag broke because I was too proud of it. It’s interesting how things beat into us come back to haunt us. It’s also interesting how those hauntings restrict us.
I’ve not been able to create anything yet, though I can feel those “seeds” about to break the surface. Meanwhile, I continue to fight the fear.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
I can see your power coming back, It was always there, it didn’t leave you, fear kept you from allowing you to use it. I see you using it now. Way to go! I love you!
I personally understand quite a few of those fears. You were there for me – I am here for you.
You have always come through the dark times. The Phoenix. Seems you just have to be in your ashes for a while. You figure out where the way out is (the hole you spoke of) and you get there. Take all of the time you need because that is how you figure out what you need to do and build your strength.
I, too, feel the times we are going through are the beginning of the end of the world. I started feeling that way last year with the oil mess in the Gulf of Mexico.
“Faith is the bird that feels the light, and sings while the dawn is still dark.”
-Rabindranath Tagore
Hello,
Youve been through so much. I cannot fathom the depth of your fear.
But, I understand some of your feelings as I have fear, and worry on my mind as I type.
Thank you for being so courageous to post this writing. You are a very beautiful person
I found you on the Handmadeology Forum.
I am going to follow you now. I hope you will do the same, actually I would be honored if you did the same
Here is the link to my Blog:
http://headpinwear.blogspot.com/
Take Care,
Cathy
Oh Pam. It hurts my heart to know that you have been going through such a dark period. I wish we could sit on the deck with the dogs and feel the sunshine on our faces and you could just take some time to breathe. You will be ok.
I am so far from being a perfectionist so I don’t know that I understand your sadness over the bag tearing but being the problem-solving kind of girl that I am, I would be so flipping proud of myself if I figured out how to take a ruined back and fix it and make it better. You need to give yourself credit for mulling it over and making it better, stronger, faster… oh, wait. It’s not Steve Austin
love you so big.
xoj
Many people are feeling just like you in the world, but they cover it up and try to not let anyone know. I admire you lettting this out and sharing with others this pain. For we ALL are imperfect and our struggles are many. I had a perfectionist dad, who I loved but scares remain. Also had a horrible perfectionist sewing teacher, so bad I hate to sew, but went on to be really good at sculpture and design! Triumph! I dont believe your bag tore because you were so proud of it, the bag tore because it had a weak spot. Thankfully you are so talented you can fix that weak spot and go on to make gorgeous things that make others smile with wonderment!! Your talent to make things will sooth not only your soul, but bring joy to others! You are never defeated unless you quit. So I have vowed to never quit. I may have to sit down and rest now and then, but I will not quit. This is what I told God many years ago after my husband died from a drunk driver accident. I was left with two babies to raise. Which I did and they are the blessing of my life now!!
found your blog on HMET! Everything is going to work out ok, I just know it!
It’s a beautiful bag. Just gorgeous. I am about to sew my first vinyl bag and I’m terrified about getting the lining in. I’m sure mine will be nowhere as lovely as yours, even with the tear and repair.