Читать книгу Overcoming Panic: My Way to Freedom from Anxiety - - Страница 4

I’m a bit anxious because I’m writing a book about myself frankly. It’s just necessary for me right now. I’ve never been to psychologists, but I know that much stems from childhood. So let’s figure out where people’s anxieties and phobias come from. For me, it’s definitely from childhood. If children grow up in a happy, loving family, they usually have strong nerves, are loved, cared for, and aren’t afraid of anything. They easily jump out of planes, although they do have healthy fears that they overcome, but certainly they don’t have a constant fear like I did in childhood. However, that doesn’t mean that these children don’t have any fear at all. In general, everyone has some fear that serves as a protective reaction of the body. However, in families where children are loved and cared for, fear doesn’t become a constant state. Love, care, and support from those around us help develop self-confidence and manage our emotions.

So what does a parachute have to do with it, you may ask?

I recently saw a little girl jump from a parachute. She was flying and smiling, not a trace of fear in her. It was her first jump, yet she glided through the sky as if she had always flown. I know her family – they all love each other. And the girl doesn’t even have any fear. She just flies and smiles.

My mom is the best person in the world. She always did everything for us, for the kids (me and my sister). Once I got sick and was hospitalized. Mom came to see me twice a day. I was only 7 years old at the time.

She’s such a bright, positive, kind, selfless, wonderful person. I’ll never forget when I, a little girl in a cold Siberian town, ended up alone in a hospital. But my mom, to make sure I wasn’t lonely, visited me every morning and every evening. And in between, she drove to another city and went to the train station to buy oranges in the wintertime. (You could only buy this delicacy in trains in Siberia at that time). And cranberry juice too. Every day they made me this useful and tasty drink…

Now I live in a bountiful land. Here, there are fruits and vegetables all year round. And my mom moved in with me too. I love her infinitely. I adore her.

My father liked to drink, so there was always a fear in the family. I was afraid for my mom. No, there was no physical violence. But when he came home from another binge, they (my mom and dad) would have their arguments (I don’t remember it well as I was around 5—6). On one of those days, he went into the kitchen to take a knife. I remember how scared I was. I didn’t understand anything, but the fear for my mom was very strong. I peeked at him from the room with eyes wide open in horror. My father saw my scared look and returned the knife.

He never hurt me, but it was important to me that he didn’t hurt my mom either. And this fear for my mom has remained in my memory forever. Then my parents divorced, and things got better. But my father continued to scare us. He would come at night, ask to open the door, knock on the window. He wanted to talk to me. I would approach the window and talk to him, asking him to leave. I remember being very scared then. Not for myself. For my mom. My father listened to me and left.

After some time, my father got married for the second time, and not long after that, he was gone.