First Pages: Dear Fear, Doubt, & Negativity (A Memoir)

[Claire Uncapher]

The opening scene introduces the protagonist, setting, tone, and foreshadows primary conflict:

Chapter 1: Dear Dreamer

Is this what it feels like to be catatonic? I was sitting on my living room couch, staring out the window but I might as well have been staring into outer space. I was completely numb. Am I in shock? Yes, this feels like shock. 

After what seemed like hours, my mind slowly started revving up, doing mental olympics. It was trying to assess the situation and come up with a solution. But there wasn’t one, of course. Or at least one I wanted to admit.

This wasn’t the first time I had fallen after taking a leap of faith. I had done it once before, right after I had left a 14-year marriage. But this time it felt more like a flailing free fall. Or maybe I had just forgotten how jarring this period of uncertainty is; the time when you have stepped out of your old life into a new one, but the new life hasn’t quite taken shape and form yet. That in-between space is like a scary void. The void can be disorienting, to say the least. I knew my mind was reeling; looking and grasping for some sort of certainty, some sign that all was well and that I was safe. But of course, none of those signs were there. Because I wasn’t safe and all wasn’t well. This time I had jumped and landed on my face. I felt so brave when I first leaped out of my safe and secure career to pursue a long-held dream, but I didn’t feel brave anymore. I was broke, struggling to pay my bills, and had been using my savings to make ends meet. And I knew that would run out soon too if things didn’t change. I had to do something, but what?

Staring out the window I realized that perhaps going after my dream wasn’t going to be sustainable after all. Something needed to shift, but I didn’t want to face the ugly truth. I knew how it worked. This was the very definition of self-sabotage. I was getting in my own way, I knew it. I was going to have to admit that something in or about me was causing this seemingly insurmountable block. As that thought crossed my mind, all the positivity, belief, and go-get-em attitude was draining out of me and I knew I wasn’t going to be getting it back. This was raw. This was broken. This was rock bottom. 

This was the moment I had been avoiding. I knew I had to make a choice, but I also knew that I would make the more reckless one. I was going to forge on and not stop until I simply couldn’t go on anymore. I couldn’t go back, that old life, although stable, predictable, and safe, simply wasn’t good enough for me anymore. I needed more and I knew the Dreamer in me wouldn’t let me give up.

I’d helped people through this exact state that I was in now, and I was no stranger to it myself. So, I did what I knew would help, I grabbed a piece of paper from the notebook sitting next to me and wrote down the words, “Dear Dreamer”...

Dear Dreamer,

I’m so confused. I’m not quite sure how I feel about you. On the one hand, you excite me, push me, and give me hope of creating the life and work of my dreams. But on the other hand, I wonder if all you ever give me is false hope or toxic and false positivity.

“Go for it”, you said. You put that dream in me, didn’t you? That fire in my belly to coach, help, write, and try to inspire others. To break free from the chains of my 9-5 and the Groundhog Day monotony of my old “safe” career.

“Go for it”, you said.

“You can do it”.

“Live the life you have imagined”, you said. Bringing Thomas Edison’s words into my mind on a more than intermittent basis.

That’s great. And hopeful. And exciting. But you neglected to tell me (or maybe you didn’t know) how hard it was going to be.

You didn’t tell me about the debt that I’d have to go into in order to get my dream business up and off the ground. Or the hours, days, evenings, nights, and weekends I’d spend working, creating, engaging, marketing, and interacting. You also didn’t mention that my mindset would have to go through upgrade after upgrade. That it would shake me to my core and make me face all my fears and demons. That all of my shadow self would come to the surface to be dealt with. That it would challenge me in a way I had never been challenged before. That I’d have to take a serious look at my habits and even my ways of being. That I’d have to learn how to persevere through failure, rejection, judgment, ridicule, and lack of results. That I’d have to believe in myself and my vision when there was no physical evidence of success to even grasp.

You probably didn’t mention those things because if I had known about them I never would have jumped. I never would have even tried. And you knew how unhappy I was and that I needed to go after what I had dreamt of doing for so long in order to feel some sort of purpose and fulfillment. You knew that without purpose and fulfillment, life was boring and directionless for me. You knew that I needed more.

I’m not sure I forgive you for failing to mention all those pitfalls I might face. I had to learn the hard way that I was not a victim. If something isn’t working, it’s because of me. It’s not other people, or circumstances, or chance, or the economy. It’s somehow and somewhat because of something I’m doing or not doing. No wonder you didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t have believed you then. And I probably wouldn’t have listened to you either. All this inner and outer work that I’ve had to go through to get as far as I’ve come, I’m not sure I would have done it if I'd known.

Don’t get me wrong, I love that you have pushed me toward the path and life that I have always wanted. And you helped me dig deep and find a strength in me that I didn’t even know was there. But, Dreamer, you need to acknowledge the dark side of going after dreams too. It is definitely not all hearts, flowers, and rainbows. You completely ignore that part. You need to acknowledge its work, persistence, and resilience. And your up-in-the-clouds “you can do it, be blind to all of that” approach isn’t always helpful. It only makes me feel like I’m doing it wrong. Or that I’m failing.

Because what if I do fail? That’s the question you never let me look at or consider. You distract me whenever I go there. But what if I do? Because failure is a possibility. With your positivity you would probably just tell me that it wouldn’t even really ever be a failure, it would be a lesson. Or a stepping stone to get me to where I needed to go.

“Enjoy the journey”, you’d probably say.

Here’s what I’m afraid of though. Here’s what I don’t want to know, I don’t want to admit it. I think in order to continue pushing ahead I am going to have to be more like you. I can’t keep going after my dreams in fear, doubt, and negativity. I think I need to become more hopeful and positive like you. I need to not focus on the setbacks, but keep going. Dreaming. Hoping. I’m just afraid to. I’m afraid that in the end, I’ll be disappointed and heartbroken and eventually have to give up. 

But I do remember looking my husband straight in the eye and telling him that I just had to try. That I would never be okay with not trying. That I had to know. You and him are a lot alike, you know.

“Go for it”, he said.

The two of you say the same things. I love that in him though, his out-of-the-box approach to life is one of my favorite things about him. So I guess that means I need to love you too and be more like you. The fear just comes in and it can be so crippling.

I thought I needed you to stop, but I guess I don’t need you to stop doing what you are doing after all. You are keeping me going. Reminding me that the only people that fail are the ones that give up. You give me strength, hope, and passion. And you know that if I just keep going with more trust, faith, and belief then it will all work out. There’s just this little thing called reality. And fear, doubt, and negativity. I guess that’s who I need to be talking to. 

But I do need you to acknowledge the struggles of going after dreams. Don’t pretend they aren’t there because they are. I hear you. You’re telling me, “Yes, they are there, but going after and living your dreams, even the journey on your way there, is so, so worth it”.

I agree. It is. But I am exhausted from vacillating between doubt and belief, so I might need reminders from time to time when things are hard like they are today. It would just help me out if you could validate and acknowledge my struggles first before you try to give me your pep talk. It makes me feel heard and understood. But okay, let’s keep going. I’m in.

Love, Claire