Dreams Do Come True

If you dream of a house, a dress, a university degree or anything else and you get it, the first sensation is of surprise, but immediately after is replaced by joy. The familiarity of feeling becomes more tangible every time you remember how many steps you had to take to get there. Your mind takes a walk through each and every one of the scenarios that you set out and also you faced before conquering your goal, therefore, you pass from the sensation to the absolute certainty that you did what you should and you took the right decision(s) in the right moment. It is then when the phrase "dreams DO come true" takes relevance and meaning.

The process of who is controlled by fear (even when you are not conscious about it) is exactly the same, only with an unpleasant result, and unfortunately, besides to be a thought it is also a hidden desire. That which we love invites us to look for it with passion and intensity by staying by its side; in the same way, what we fear can remain with us to the same extent that we feed it.

Job's ills were fears fed by years in his mind and perhaps, deep in his heart; maybe, he did not mention it with his wife and children, or perhaps he didn't talk it with a friend, but there they were, latent every day, becoming stronger and stronger, preparing the ground for its emergence, setting up for its painful but strongly constructed appearance on the foundations of constancy and imagination. And once they emerged, they wiped out everything just like a tsunami does when it comes out of the ocean depths bringing with it the pain, the grief and all the disappointments that Job dreamed or thought of them. This would be the sad case of "Be careful what you want ... may be fulfilled."

The curious and almost unusual thing about this is that when these evils happen in a person, usually, he/she tends to start their string of accusatory statements (of course, never pointing to themselves), and wonders Why to them? Or, What did they do to deserve it? Most are surprised, even offended when they are told that they themselves were directly responsible for everything that happened to them. How will I be? They ask incredulous, Do you think I wanted to go through this?

Although the answer is a strong NO, the truth is that in the same way that dreams are prepared to make them come true, so do nightmares.

If something worthy of highlighting in Job was that unlike most, he did not choose to blame anyone. Yes, it is true, that he became bitter into the bones, but he was never able to accuse God or any acquaintance; that is why, at the beginning of his misfortune, he admitted his participation in the tragic events of his family and his estate, he said: fear that scared me has come. And what I feared has happened to me. "How many of us would be able to admit such a responsibility? The next thing to figure out is What to do with that revelation? How long will a person allow themselves to cultivate the fruits of their fear? Would you be willing to sow new seeds of values full of love, faith, hope and change your fears for dreams of greatness and overcoming?

The answer is so personal that even now I keep writing my own. I'm just beginning to admit that what I feared so much since my childhood, is exactly what I spent years harvesting and that I was foolishly asking myself: Why me? What did I do to deserve this? And yes, unfortunately, I blamed everyone for those evils because I was never able to see myself in totality in front of the mirror. Unlike Job, I did not have the integrity to acknowledge my mistake, but I hope to discover the way out of this quagmire and teach it to others so that they can succeed.

The exact age I do not remember, I presume I was around 8 or 10 years old. It was night. My father and I were visiting a family at the top of a hill. My father, while evangelizing them, commented on a personal anecdote of his adolescence. In it he related that when he came of age, my grandfather told him in a serious conversation that "He just could help him till there", then my father shook his hands like Pontius Pilate, implying that from then on, he would be alone and he would have to look after himself without help.

At least that's how I understood it; after that, my father mentioned that the day would come when that would also happen to me. He would say to me with solemn seriousness: "Child, I have helped you so far, from now on it will be yours".

At the age of 31, I was still waiting with terror that he tells me that terrible sentence. I never imagined how my personal life could be affected by a "simple" conversation between adults, but I remember that since then, I felt a silent fear of loneliness and my own disability. I remember myself since that night, clinging to the tales of terror (despite the scare that they caused me and sometimes they led me to hallucinations), only to overcome "fear" in all its expression; first to darkness, then to loneliness.

I developed a fondness for closed spaces, dark and with the least possible company. My character was identified more towards the sullen, that is to say, I enjoyed, being alone in my own thoughts and worlds. In a way, I retreated inside myself to wait for the nefarious moment when I should be alone, without more help or company that I had received or had until now. As far as I'm concerned, I simply prepared myself for loneliness and the ugly truth.

The truth of being alone and without help. Now when I understood this, I confess that it was amazing to me everything that developed my character because of fear, that is, I became interested in what terrified me only with the desire to overcome it or simply get used to it to such a degree that I no longer it could affect me, and it was. I can not last a long time accompanied and I am especially attracted by anything that causes fear, especially stories and tales.

However, that is only a small part of my evolution in fear. The worst part I developed it over the years and it was not until I was 31 that I could recognize my highly sought and enigmatic "problem"; because for me, there was a problem. I thought it was economic because of the bad financial situation we had at home, I thought it was because of my mistake in choosing a university career, I thought God had abandoned me (more than once), I thought it was the area where we lived (because we lived rented and the house was so unpleasant that we baptized it as "the house of terror"), I thought it was the fault of the government in charge because of the constant political and social problems that affected my home and my studies. I even considered that it was a family curse because most of my uncles (precisely, on my father's side) had the same unstable and unproductive trajectory in their lives and finally, I thought that I should just sit and wait for my death because it was not possible for me to expect "something good".

I never considered that a "simple fear" of my childhood would grow like a snowball in descent and devastate all my life. Those were bitter nights that I lived without ceasing to mourn, to lament and torment myself for not understanding, where was the root of my "problem". Because without a doubt, it had to exist, it could not simply appear and already. Others triumphed but any attempt of mine to overcome me became a bitter memory for my mind.

When I was in high school, just as in college, the fear from my childhood continued to accompany me. I asked myself in silence (in the wandering of my mind): "What happens if I do not learn the lesson well? What happens if I come to school next year, and then I realize that I forgot what I was taught the last one? In truth, will I be ready for the world and to fend for myself when I graduate? What I study will serve to defend me without help from anyone else? Will it be possible for me just like my parents did to enter a company and, do such a good job that I can last in it for years? And if I do not do it well, if I get fired, if despite studying so much I cannot make it at work? What happens if I turn out to be a whole useless? What if time passes and I get old without getting a real achievement in my life? If I'm over 30 and I still have to be maintained by my parents? ... Then, I will not be able to fend for myself and when my father tells me that he will not be able to help me anymore, I will be alone and lost. "

This has been my fear since childhood, which grew bigger and bigger over the years. Until finally, the day came when I could not seed it anymore and only I just had to reap its fruits. Do you have any idea what can be reaped from a crop of fears? Let me illustrate a little.

While studying, I felt fairly safe, because I had a future, a life project, a reason to get up and go to bed every day, whether it was an exam, an exhibition, an essay, a pending work, in short, the typical student life. My first attempt to find employment was quickly turned off, not because my mother or father told me that I should focus on my studies instead of distracting myself with work, since according to them, I would take so much love to work that I would stop studying to dedicate myself entirely to "make money", but because it was convenient and even timely for me to have the perfect excuse not to try to overcome "my silent fear from childhood."

As I wrote at the beginning, the cowards like to hide behind excuses, and the advice of my parents fitted perfectly into that framework of disobedience and evasion of responsibility. Every time I think about it, I regret not having had enough character to face that particular fear, just as in my childhood, I sought to overcome the fear of darkness, loneliness, and tales of terror.

But we must continue. The questions that I formulated in my mind and repeated for years without commenting with anyone even once, began to have answers, one after the other and to my sad ignorance, every time they showed up they surprised me by saying to myself: "I knew this would happen to me." (If you're shaking your head, so am I)

As soon as I graduated from college, my ordeal began, or rather, my harvest. When I looked for a job, I did not get it. The reason: Lack of experience in the first place, lack of contacts in second place, lack of audacity in third, and lack of budget last, because I no longer had the resources of my own or of my parents to continue reproducing my resumes and distribute them as if they were advertising flyers.

Some of my most terrifying thoughts came to greet me in those days. The days when my parents did not enjoy a good economic situation and I, their eldest daughter, the one who graduated from the University at the point of sacrifices, the one who had always had good grades and showed an exemplary behavior, of which everyone said "She's going to get very far", she was not able to find a job and help us.

So it happened, they were very bitter days in "the house of terror". My parents separated. My father did not have a job. My mother was a seller and did not have a fixed salary but she earned on commission and as if my fears provoked it, she could stay up to a month without making a single sale. My father visited close acquaintances (I mean, he only could visit them on foot because there was no money to pay for the transport ticket) and borrow something with which to buy a package of flour or a few grams of mortadella and have it to eat.

My worst nightmares were coming true. What only passed through my mind from time to time, during my childhood, was now a terrifying reality and I was standing there watching it and suffering it with absolute amazement.

The first company that gave me an opportunity to work was precisely one in which I had to work as a door-to-door salesperson, just like my mother, although with a totally different product. I received a training course for two months, in which I had to make at least one sale to stay in the group; however, I did not manage it.

Not a single sale, despite what I walked, talked, searched and trumpeted, I was not given a single sale and as if that was not enough, part of the company's "daily motivational course" consisted in passively suffer all kinds of insulting and humiliating words on the part of the supervisors (because they had the crazy impression that that would awaken the most offended ego of the seller and thus, they would come out like a beast to sell); insults that I tolerated until the day the head of the office told me that "I should be good for something, but not to be there." Then I left there with empty hands. Happy, on the one hand, since I had freed myself from such psychological abuse and sad for the other because my inner voice told me: "You are useless; you do not know how to defend alone".

My next attempts to find a stable job led me to accept the independent management of the accounts of a company without any organization, my father agreed to help me from outside in order to advise me since that would be my first real experience in the field of my studies. I spent three years as a bookkeeper or at least that's how I felt, of course, I took care of other tasks such as commercially registering the company, opening accounts in banks, requesting business loans to invest, calculate and declare their taxes, among others things.

During that time, I looked for other clients to open an accounting office, as my mother suggested me, but every time I found one, they ended up rejecting me or otherwise, I was the one who rejected them. Therefore, my great number of clients was reduced to the fabulous number of ONE.

Then, an acquaintance got me a job interview in the company of her boss's husband. The company in question worked with outdoor advertising and I would enter as an assistant to the owner in the administrative area. I never worked in the company properly, but in a small office within another company of the owner's family. I had no one else to talk to except him, and it goes without saying that he did not like my job. The following two weeks, I worked there, I only had a relationship with the cleaning lady and my boss kept reminding me that I had obtained that unparalleled job opportunity, thanks to the insistence of his wife who in turn received the recommendation of this acquaintance.

It was the first time I felt really incompetent. This man repeated me continuously, what I did not know or did not do well, shook his head and the expression in his eyes is one of the things I remember with fear because I was really afraid of failing but much more to recognize that despite my studies, I simply was not trained. I decided to retire, not without first hearing another speech from my boss about how I was discarding an invaluable opportunity by which others would kill

You will understand me if I say that, I deployed a complete aversion to accounting and anything else related to my administrative career.

I told myself then, that it was time to try something different, I gave up that one client and I turned to the search of the local newspaper for a decent job opportunity. My mother told me one day that she saw a notice of staff request in a bookstore, and given my love for reading, that promised to be a paradise for me, at least in the work aspect. Well, although my religious education was deeply rooted in the faith of One and Almighty God, I associated my happiness with economic stability.

I introduced my resume and as I wished, I got the job. I was going to be the new Store Manager, I would no longer have to deal with numbers but with books and people. I almost forgot to mention, that this is the part in which I continue to reap the fruit of my fears. The employees made war on me from my entrance, my boss (the one who hired me) scolded me in front of them when he came back annoyed after doing some personal diligence, even I had an accident in one of my legs for wanting to arrive early and that took me three weeks of recovery that I had to suffer in the workplace because otherwise, I would lose my salary day if I was absent. Finally, I retired before the Boss did it for me and that could leave me with a very unpleasant dismissal on my resume.

In the middle of all this conflict, my mother kept saying to me: "do not worry, while I can help you, you will not miss anything". A popular saying goes: "The weeping boy and the mother who pinches him"; in other words, I, the coward one, having to defend myself alone in the world and my mother, the protector, giving me the perfect excuse not to leave my comfortable chair of terror. I still think, that more determination and character would have changed my situation, after all, it was about my life and I had to make a decision.

Unfortunately, my decision was to continue in the fog of my thoughts. I tried to start up my own printing for all occasions card business with some acquaintances. A part of my settlement in the bookstore I used it to buy the reams of paper and cardboard, as well as a new and multifunctional printer. I did not even get ten orders, and one of my clients never used the cards. He only asked them for charity, you know, that hateful feeling of pity that some people want to give you just because they think they do you a favor.

Another business failed. I was empty-handed (like my pockets). The only thing I could give to my mother was a punt for the apartment that she bought with her effort and work and which was in the construction phase since the construction company delivered it in gray work. Of the rest, everything was sweat and tears of my mother to get a home of her own. Well, even the bricklayers' supervision had to be done by her, given that at that time I spent eight to ten hours at the bookstore. In the same way that I also got lost when the time came out, my younger sister's elementary school graduation, for unnecessarily enduring the insults in the "Sales Course".

Even, as a curious fact, I like to comment that with part of my salary in the bookstore I saved to go to an Annual National Convention of my church in another state. The result: I quarreled with my father, the hotel gave me a noisy room, I had to buy mineral water in the lobby of the hotel to bathe on a seventh floor because they had no water and one of the employees was electrocuted trying to fix the elevator, so the four days I spent there I had to go up and down stairs.

Returning to my harvest of terrors, I find it worthwhile to mention that while all of the above mentioned happened in my life, my family's was not less affected. My mother continued with "bad luck" in her sales (although not always, because she was able to save to pay the initial of her own apartment, build what was missing and prepare it to her taste), at the expense of her health, since she is operated of the spine (on one occasion two herniated discs were removed), and constantly suffer from some muscle pain to a greater or lesser degree along her extremities, especially the legs.

She and my father are separated and increasingly repellent with each other. My father opted for the job of a taxi driver, so I lived with terror in my heart continuously, so something really bad could happen to him, given the daily news on television and newspapers of murders, kidnappings and other situations that drivers of both, buses and taxi, frequently had to suffer by the delinquents.

As for me, little by little I was giving up what I wanted to get in my life since my economic possibilities disappeared. I began to dismiss any object, pledge, study or personal desire I wished to have since I did not have the money to pay for it. I considered myself as a lonely, and after this, I became less sociable. How could I look in the face or converse with some of my colleagues, friends, brothers or acquaintances without being able to answer the question: What are you doing? Should I lie, pretend I was okay when it was not true? The shame for my professional, work and economic failure was drilling me to the psychological and emotional, I was becoming a bitter woman, alone and weak.

Fear not only deprives you of acting when you must do it, but it can also make you make the wrong decisions, the ones that only focus on the negative and the gray. But when you reap its fruits, shame as well as impotence, they become the bitter bread of every day. It is a continuous emotional descent where you can not stop reproaching your mistakes, regret for what you still have since it makes you wonder: When will you lose it too?

I discovered that in Psychology there is a name for this particular type of Fear, it is called ATICHYPHOBIA, or what is the same, Fear of Failure. This phobia is characterized mainly for the constant sabotage against themselves by the person who suffers it, every time they have the opportunity to obtain what they want or are in the presence of a successful situation.

That is, when they see that it is possible to obtain what they are looking for, they become unnerved. The palpitations begin, the attack of anxiety, the insecurity, the restlessness, the uncertainty, and the discouragement, the immediate search of excuses of why not to act or reasons to justify the failure. All of them make an act of appearance at the same time.

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