My mind is in a fog today, it seems to be wrapped up in a thick blanket of fog, and the more I struggle to get out of it, the thicker it gets. It was that way yesterday also, everyone keeps telling me it’s the weather, and it may be. But whatever it is, it needs to go away. I hate this feeling, the feeling of being lost in your own home. It drives me crazy!
Being lost is one thing, but being lost in your own home that is a scary feeling. When I was younger, and I mean years ago when I was like 7 years old one of the scariest dreams I would have involved this feeling of lost in your own home. The dream was always the same, I would be away from home, where ever it didn’t matter but when I returned home, no one was there, they all moved out. Nothing was left, the house was empty. I was lost in my own home… I use to wake up with the shakes and a scream chocking in my throat. I hated that feeling; it was a lonely scary feeling, one that left me with no control.
It’s a funny thing, how our childhood can still make an impact on us years later. And in the case of my dream, it had no footing in reality, it’s not like my parents ever did that to me, or even threatened it. The dream and feeling where just part of whom I am, I need a home, a place to call mine, something I can control, or at least feel like I can. As a young boy I must have had a great fear of losing control, of having nothing to call home. In some ways I think it speaks to my deep love and need for family, but it is also much deeper than that, it also speaks to my feeling of needing to belong. It is a fear that I think most, if not all, youth feel. And we take that feeling with us in to adult life.
It is in the adult life that we learn to hide or mask that feeling, to place a fog over it. And I hate fog; it is a dark and dank feeling. It is covered in mystery and the unknown. When we are living in the fog, we are living in a state of unknown, a state of un-control (I know it’s not a word, but I like it).
As adults, or even as youth, we learn to replace our fears with other, seemingly more pleasant activities. We learn to smoke to fit in, to have that feeling of home. We take drugs in an attempt to remove the fog or we drink and have sex with the hopes of finding a home.
Me, my replacement is smoking, and in my mind I know that it is nothing but bad, but somewhere inside of me is that little boy with no home, everyone moved out, leaving me to fight the world all alone. So I smoke, to fill in the void, to help lift the fog, to give me control over my life. It’s silly, and it’s bad for me, this I know, but I also know it’s something that I have control over, it’s all mine!
Funny how that works, from a fear I choose to harm myself. How much better it would be if we chose to eat healthy, in an attempt to gain control or attend Church more often or to pray more give more, do more and be more. But we don’t, we choose to harm ourselves to add a new layer of fog, to thicken it up by our own freewill.
It is in moments as this, which I truly believe that I can be new; I just need to work harder, believe in myself more and rely on Gods graces more.
It is in moments like this that I wish I could turn back the clock, return to that 7 year old me, not to stop the bad dream, but to be there to hold him, and protect him, to tell him all is ok, that you have a home. It is in moments like this that I feel small and so young. It is moments like this that I miss my mom, and her hugs. I miss the feeling of coming home, of being home and knowing I have a safe home.
It is a sad feeling, this fog is a fog of deception, one that creates a fails you, creates in you a feeling of hopelessness. But like all fogs it will burn off and the sun will shine thru once again.
I know this to be true, because I have faith in God, and I know his plan for me is not one of sorrow or fear but rather one of joy and security.