Dread. My unwanted sometime companion. It creeps in sudden, uninvited, without warning, triggered by something unassuming. I try to ignore the sensation: like thick tepid oil slowly pouring upwards against gravity. It starts from below my heart, behind my lungs, spreading upwards. My throat closes up as if to stop it from reaching the top of my head. It takes my breath away and I find it hard to think.
It hardly ever happens when the shit is hitting the fan. That would be too predictable. Instead, it chooses to strike when I have an errant “oh-no second” or when I read a troubling email. I try to swallow and I can’t. I take a moment to remember to breathe…
And then I’m left a bit queasy but working through whatever triggered the response.
Seth Godin talked about fear today on his blog – and his comments made me think about how they applied to dread. He said:
The fear certainly helps you do it better. The fear-less one might sleep better, but sleeping well doesn’t always lead to your best work. The fear can be your compass, it can set you on the right path and actually improve the quality of what you do.
Listen to your fear but don’t obey it.
But dread doesn’t make me do anything better. It just chokes me up for a moment or three. Give me a genuine crisis over the dread of not-knowing any day. In a crisis, I’m a rock. My mind clears and I just work through what needs to be done. When there’s nothing actually wrong – just the possibility something might be wrong – then I stuff down the creeping dread and keep pushing forward.
Some ridiculous things that have given me the “dread response” include:
- realization I forgot to pay a bill
- finding the front door ajar and wondering where the cat is
- the check engine light
- email with the subject line: “well that wasn’t good.”
- text message from family that says “don’t panic, but…”
- realizing that SHB isn’t where he’d planned and isn’t answering his phone
- pager message from nagios (under certain circumstances)
- “uh, what’s wrong with $machine?” in IRC (under other circumstances)
But the more I think about it, fear isn’t dread. I can’t stand dread. I’d rather face down fear than get gut-punched by dread.