Fear of Falling

I suffer from vertigo, which in my case, manifests itself as two or three straight days of unbearable dizziness, lightheadedness, and nausea. This happens every couple of months or so, usually suddenly, and with no relief except sleep. So every time I have an attack, I crawl to the nearest bed, sleep, sleep and puke, puke and sleep, and sleep some more--until I can open my eyes without my vision spinning like crazy.

Most people associate vertigo with acrophobia. For what is the fear of heights but a fear of falling? And isn't dizziness a fear of not feeling the ground beneath your feet?

I think that only in freefall are we really, truly helpless--desperate in the sense of no choices, no exits. And I am not talking about bungee jumping with its cords or sky diving with its parachutes. I am talking about a body acted upon by gravity, with nowhere to go but down.

No wonder I choose to sleep through an attack every time. And no wonder people would rather stay on firm ground.

But when does the fear of falling become a fear of flying?

*****

I left Japan for the Philippines 8th of October last year. Today, March 8th, makes it my 5th month back home.

Must be why I feel so out-of-sorts. What's your excuse?

I have been staying with my parents again: Our house of twenty-odd years, the same room that I share with my two sisters, the sappy pink walls, the twin beds, the old chest of drawers. Some things have changed, too: The middle sister has moved out, the youngest has her posters on the walls, my old bed is now my kid sister's, my drawer under lock and key.

I have been away from my parents for eight years before this. Four years of college, three working in Manila, and a year and a half partying in Kyoto. Now that I'm back, I don't know if it is still home, or a hiding place. I don't know if I am looking for and towards something that is not there, and missing what's right in front of me.

Is going away again the only way to know for sure? Take the plunge into unknown territory and find out?

As of a month ago, I only had four feasible (?) choices: (1) live at home, watch TV, grow fat and die of boredom; (2) grab the first available guy, get married, and pray like hell we don't have to live with my parents or his; (3) find work, any kind of work and begin being independent again and for good; (4) look for scholarships to study abroad (again). As you can see, that's not an awful lot.

But let's discuss option #3. I've applied to various jobs, both in my field and not. I've had four job offers (2 for my Japanese, 1 because of connections, 1 for my looks, and a whopping 0 in my field of environmental science) in the last three months. One wanted me pretty bad, but I wasn't really interested. The other made me feel a bit excited, but perhaps for the wrong reasons. All of them I rejected.

As for #4, well, ehrm. Did I ever tell you why I'm back from Japan in the first place? Oh boy. This is a whole new story, a whole blog, for that matter. Suffice it to say, I don't really want to further my degree in Environmental Science, for now. And believe me, I have brochures and application forms from about five different schools in different countries that lie on my desk gathering dust.

So, really, what do I want to do?

This month, somehow the problem seems more urgent. (Could it be the 6th-month itch?) Not only because I've gained weight or memorized the days of the week according to what's on TV; and certainly not because I've been thinking about marriage and having kids recently.

This month, I've been offered to go back to Kyoto, or to start anew in California. Both offers, of course, come with strings attached, and I don't know if these strings are a lifeline or a noose. No, I am being unfair. I don't know if I can learn to accept these strings and use them as a lifeline, and not fuck it all up and wrap them around my neck.

I just want to know: Am I being too selfish? If I am, am I entitled? Am I asking too much and not doing enough? And if I'm not doing all I can, is it because I don't think it's worth it, or am I just too scared?

Will these questions ever stop? There are so many things I don't know. But somehow, there are a handful of statements I can (almost) say without a question mark at the end.

1. I don't want to grow fat on my parents' couch watching TV and popping m&ms.
2. I don't want to marry the next available guy. At least, not yet.
3. I don't want to work just any job, just for money. I want to work on something that fulfills me and challenges me; I want to do work that I like.
4. Right now, I don't think that's being an environmental scientist.

It's funny how all of them are something I don't want. Funnier, how they almost make it clear what I do want, and these I can really say without any doubt:

1. I want to write and write well. Or simply give it the sincere attempt it deserves.
   
2. I want to make a life for myself. A life I want and in my own terms, not anyone else's.
3. I want a shot at love--the kind that could make me stupid, the kind I fear would hurt like hell, the kind I will never regret whatever the outcome.
4. I want to travel. I want to experience the world, and maybe find my place in it.
   

You'd think knowing what I want and what I don't want, I'd be well on my way to happiness or to the next course of action. Or at the very least, deep into the planning stage. But...

But what? Really, why aren't I? Isn't it high time I stopped sleeping through this confusing and dizzying stage?

Isn't it time I took the next course of action? Time I stopped being lazy, stopped being a coward, stopped thinking too much. I am tired of knowing but not doing anything. I'm tired of just sleeping through my vertigo. I'm tired of being afraid.

Somebody told me recently that life really begins once you go against your fears. I think he's right.

One, two, three. Jump!