My Worst Nightmare
Baggage. The stuff from childhood. My personal strangeness includes wanting no one to overhear my conversation. I have no story for it. I fear humiliation.
This weakness became clear to me when my young step-kids would ask me questions while riding on the bus. I was afraid some nearby Muni-rider would snort at my answer. So I would tell the boys to stop asking questions.
Years later, my natural son, about three, and I went to a small sandbox in the Marina district of San Francisco. After a few minutes, I noticed he wasn't in view. I called his name and there was no answer. If you ever wonder what an anxiety attack feels like, this is it.
“Jake!” He had started looking for me and walked away. He came running. I hugged my little guy and told him how afraid I had been. “We need to work out a way that when we feel lost, we don't go looking. That can get us really lost. We call out, "DAD!" or "Son!!"
“OK, Dad.”
We went shopping at the Marina Safeway. While I went from item to item down an aisle, I heard "DAD!" My little reseacher was testing this system.
"Over here!"
"Dad!"
I could hear his calmness, so my wits stayed put. “I’m standing in the middle of an aisle, go to the end and look down the aisles toward my voice.” We just spent a few seconds re-connecting. For a grown man with a fear of public humiliation, I decided the terror at the sandbox was worse than anything. I couldn't have that happen again. No one seemed troubled by our system. Not that I looked. I also started answering his questions while riding the Muni.
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