Choices? Always!

Choices? Always!

There is this famous quote by Severus Snape in the Harry Potter books. Snape claims to love Lilly even after she had died and it had been 14 years. The headmaster asks him, “After all this time?” Snape simply replies, “Always.”

This quote has stayed with me more than any other. There are some emotions which cling to your heart and they almost never change. Love is the strongest of them. Yes. Once you love someone, it doesn’t change. You may try to hide or modify, but it is difficult. Same is the case with compassion and me. I feel a lot of things for and about people. However, once I feel compassionate towards them, there is nothing else. The compassion stays stronger than any other emotion in my heart.

How did I get to know this? The answer is education.

If you are an engineer, you learn about making something or repairing something. It is mainly related to some machine in general. If you are a lawyer, you learn about laws and how to practice them in the society. If you are a veterinary doctor, you learn about treating animals. If you are a psychologist, you learn about humans, especially human emotions and their tangled nature. In the process, the psychologist becomes aware of one’s own emotions. At the end of the day, the psychologist is also a tangled mass of emotions. This is how I know about my emotional world.

I have always struggled when it comes to expression of these emotions in a socially acceptable way, particularly when they are strong. Today I decided against hiding one of my experience in the Deo Tibba Base Camp Trek. I want to note down the panic attack I had and I want to share it.

We were taken to climb down with the help of a rope from a rock (height: approximately 20 feet). It’s called rappelling. When I saw the demonstration, I knew that I am not going first or in between but at last. I knew something was amiss. Today, I know that something was my fearless courage.

I did what I do best when I am afraid. I found out a spot and sat alone. I hid my fear under the wall of my consciousness. I interacted with people. Behind that wall though, a decision was being taken. There was a battle going on. A battle of creating a scene if something went wrong and facing the fear despite everything. I knew I didn’t have anything that would help me be perpendicular to a stone without an evident support. Trusting people is one thing, but trusting an instrument in hands of a person is another. It was a war. I wanted to do it and I didn’t. I took too much of me and of course the deep breathing technique to simply go up there and try something that I had feared all my life.

It’s weird. I climb trees, hills. It’s not the height that makes me tremble, it’s the act of climbing down. The act of crossing that distance between two known safe places that sends the chills through my spine. It’s been like that since I was saved as a child in an accident. I still have the mark of that injury on my right leg. The crossing is tough. I panic. I have been fighting this. One of my friend who has walked a lot with me knows about his fear. I used to panic when I would hear a loud sound on roads, especially honking. It brings back that horn of the car. I have surpassed it though. I am still afraid of crossing the roads, especially crossroads. There are too many directions to notice and remember and I just have two eyes. My auditory sense helps a lot. I do cross the roads every day. Living in a metro city like Mumbai and traveling being an inevitable part of my work I have to do it. Despite this, I will accept that when I don’t have to cross a road, I feel a sense of relief. So, crossing is quite a challenge for me.

This all went on behind the walls of my consciousness while I sat upright against a tree. The tree was immensely soothing. I wish I could have taken it with me to the actual rappelling that I did. No. One has to face one’s fears alone. I have learnt that one. Absolutely no one can help you overcome your fear. It’s your thing. And yes, it takes time and sometimes a lot of time and patience as well. The thing that convinced me to do it was my mantra. “Yes, I am afraid of crossing the roads. Does that mean I would never cross one? Would it be rational to put up another boundary on my own explorations? Would this not hinder the growth of my soul?” Other than the mantra, there was one more thing that convinced me: My students. I taught them and pushed them to grow. I asked them to give a presentation looking at me so that they would forget their fear. They did it. They put all their trust in me, went on the stage, spoke whatever they could and came down to sit beside me holding my hand. All I needed to do was trust in me and forget what other people thought, perceived, interpreted and remembered. The fear was mine. Mine to behold and mine to let go.

I ensured that I was last. I went up with the instrument. I kept on with my deep breathing. When I started with the rope and became almost perpendicular, I knew that that was all. I have vivid memories of what I felt. I clutched the rope too tight. I tried to look at the instructor. I could not relate. I was a mess. I had prepared myself for going up and coming down. Who knew that I had to concentrate on the technique, too. I had to keep my feet steady. My feet were worse than a jelly. They were not paralyzed but they were not in any mood to listen. That’s when I panicked. I had lost my illusion of control. I tried to get my illusion back. It was necessary to control my body and emotions and concentrate on the technique. I tried and my jelly feet kept slipping. I had nothing to fight and everything to fight. I had nowhere to run and my mind wanted to run away as far as it can. So, my whole being decided that let’s freeze. That’s when it happened. My dear grandfather’s memory came flashing in front of my eyes. I froze completely. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be with him. I couldn’t. I still don’t understand why my mind chose that particular memory. My most rational and probable guess is similarity. I had frozen when he passed away. This was similar. This is what happened inside my head. It’s real. It’s real for me. I wanted to be held and I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to cry and yell and I wanted to be as quiet as if I was dead. I wanted to run and I wanted to curl up into a ball and vanish without even a bit of a movement.

Now, I will tell what people told what I did and how I reacted to them. I have a very foggy memory of that. I think I couldn’t process the external cues as I was overstimulated with the internal ones. I cried out loud and people tried to gather around me telling me to calm down, asking me for water, etc. I didn’t let them help me. I sat down and someone tried to tell me to breathe and let the air in. I don’t remember what I did. After some time though when I had regained some of my sense, I heard a voice telling me to open my body. I realized I was holding myself with knees clutched to my chest. I understood what this meant. Less oxygen going to my brain and more time needed for processing that the perceived threat was gone. I opened my legs with difficulty. This I remember because holding myself was a great comfort. I knew nothing could penetrate. Nonetheless, I knew I had to let my rational being take over. I remember crying. I remember jelly feet. I remember many people holding their hand out to me. My friend told me I refused help. She told me I didn’t listen to people. I didn’t trust. In hindsight, maybe I was trying to regain my own trust on myself and my jelly feet. The way I felt when my feet just refused my brain’s order was not very reassuring. Maybe she was right after all, I didn’t trust anyone at that point of time. Maybe, I just didn’t know what I was doing and was holding onto my freezing response. I am still searching what went on there, inside and outside.

Most of this is a very foggy memory enhanced by what people told me. I am taking guesses as well. I guess I would have sat there and cried if no one else was there. I do remember walking down with comparative control over my feet. Everyone encouraged me and reassured me. I was grateful but confused. I remember discussing politics. That was some amazing running away from the situation. I wanted to have a bath. My friend persuaded me to eat. I think that day I ate out of guilt. It’s like when my students do their work properly because they haven’t listened to me earlier and made me unhappy and upset. Yes, I ate because I had refused my friend’s help when I should have taken it or at least it was the socially acceptable thing to do. I compensated not being a socially appropriate person through a socially appropriate act. Yes. That was the right thing to do. Listen to the community at least alternatively. I am glad that I ate and I am glad that I had a bath. Once I was able to eat, I knew I was in control again. It’s the best sign. If you are able to do something socially appropriate, then your brain has come back to normal state of affairs.

In the whole process, I expressed all the three threat responses a person can. I decided to fight. That was a conscious decision. I did for a few seconds at least. Then, my body decided to freeze. It was an involuntary reaction. I shut down. Then, I ran away not physically but mentally. I was there. I wasn’t there.

Today, when I relive this I shudder and I laugh. I know how afraid I was. I know how comical I must have looked. I am glad that I can recollect and write down the incidence. My heart raced as I wrote and I felt a mixture of shame, pride and amusement.

I end this with a quote again from the Harry Potter books. The headmaster talks about how it’s our choices and not our abilities that make us what we are. As my other blog posts would show, I too am a strong believer of the choice theory. I chose to face my fear of climbing down. I chose to reveal than conceal. I chose to write. I chose to be honest. I chose to laugh at my own situation. I don’t know about anyone else but Dumbledore would be proud.