My Fear- Personal Narrative

My Fear- Personal Narrative

Every child, teenager and adult has experienced anxiety, fear or worry

at some time in their lives. Everyone has their own phobias. Some are

just temporary whereas others just linger, haunting them forever.

Life allows us each of us to experience challenges in our own way. But

when these challenges become almost impossible to complete, they

become long term problems. When faced with fear, one looks for the

easiest route out, but in my case, there were no signposts.

There is one part of my life that I vividly recall. I don’t really

know when or how it started. Maybe I’d had it all my life or maybe it

developed at a certain age. Perhaps, that will remain an unsolved

mystery.

I think it was at its peak from about the age of twelve to roughly

thirteen and a half. It gradually worsened.

I don’t know what triggered it, but shortly after my twelfth birthday,

I believed that my home would burn down, killing me and everyone

inside it. I would think about it before sleeping and when I awoke in

the morning.

By the age of twelve and a half, I would frequently check if the stove

was on. At the time, I didn’t realise how peculiar these routines

were.

My condition gradually worsened and by the age of thirteen and a half,

I would examine the cooker literally every 5 minutes when I was home.

This I because after confirming to myself that the stove was off, my

anxiety would diminish, briefly. I would check eight times before

going to sleep and when I awoke in the middle of the night, I would

get out of bed and go to the kitchen simply to reassure myself that

the house was not burning.

Sometimes...

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...lmost fifteen years old and although I still

continuously count syllables on shop windows, this does not bother me

or affect my everyday life. Also, even though I still have a phobia, I

rarely inspect the house for fires.

Although, I think I knew all along that my rituals were abnormal and

am now almost certain that I suffer from OCD, I have never plucked up

the courage to visit a doctor to confirm this – Perhaps I am afraid of

the truth. My condition has improved with no medication or with the

help of a therapist, just with determination to gain self-control.

Even though, my obsessions are unlikely to completely fade away, they

are steadily improving and I do not let them affect my life.

Although I may never completely overcome my phobia, I have come to

realise that life is short and should not be lived in fear.