The Trick To Living Without Fear [And Also For Not Getting Eaten By Mountain Lions. Maybe.]

afraid

Moving halfway across the country has been a bit traumatic for our kids and, in typical kid fashion, they manifest their discombobulation by suddenly refusing to eat, potty and/or sleep. (For the record, you can’t pee on a tree if you’re a girl. Jelly Bean proved this by first refusing to use a “stiiinky” biffy, then partially wetting herself when I tried to help her squat and then somehow managed to not pee at all for 24-hours straight causing me to panic that she was going to pull a Tycho Brahe on me.) So it was no surprise when Son #3 started crying hysterically right at bedtime, terror-stricken that he was going to be eaten by a coyote (a fear that is probably my fault, more mommy guilt in a minute).

First, my husband tried logic to calm him: “Have you seen how little coyote’s paws are? There’s no way they could undo a deadbolt!”

However, as any good nightmare-banishing mommy can tell you, logic is powerless in the face of beady glow-in-the-dark eyes. Not that I have any better suggestions, mind you. I was hiding (as much as you can in 500 sq ft shared by 6 people) and pretending I wasn’t on call. So I was all ears for my husband’s next suggestion.

“Do you want to hear about a time when I was your age and I was really scared of something?”

A chorus of tinny-voiced yeses resounded.

“When I was about your age, I moved to Hawaii with my family. [Husband’s dad was in the navy. Also, he would like me to add that living in Hawaii is not at all as fun as visiting it so you can stop envying him.] I was afraid of sharks in the water that would eat me, of volcanoes that would roast me and of tidal waves that would drown me. But did any of those things happen to me?”

I could hear my kids’ brains thinking that one through. “I guess not,” my eldest finally answered. (Awesome, since he’s living proof it didn’t. Critical thinking skills FTW!)

My husband continued, “But you know what I was not really afraid of? The black sand beach! I’d never seen black sand but I loved playing on the beach so I figured it would be fun. So one day my dad took me to one of those beaches and you know what happened? I discovered that black sand is really freaking hot and I burnt my feet so bad I couldn’t play on any beach that day!” He paused for effect. “So the moral of this story is that it’s never the stuff that you think is going to get you, it’s the stuff you’re not worried about that will do you in! Now GO TO BED.”

I was amused by this all the way until 2 a.m. when my son woke me up sobbing about nightmares of coyotes chasing him across black sand. (Kidding! He was sobbing about some stupidly menacing cartoon character. Any excuse not to sleep!)

But as I comforted him and reassured him that he was safe because I was there and would protect him, it occurred to me how much I wanted someone to be holding me and saying those same things. Sitting there in the blackest part of night, I realized how afraid I have been this past week. Heck, this past month. Ever since we found out that we were moving I have been deeply scared.

Now, most of the time I do a fairly good imitation of fearless. For being as much of a scaredy cat as I innately am, I’ve done some pretty brave things. But the truth is that I worry about everything all the time and when you take away all that is familiar to me I get absolutely rigid with fear. And it’s 100 times worse since I’ve had kids, little daredevils that they are.

I’m tired of living in fear.

For one thing, my fear often manifests as anger. I’m terrified of losing my kids in this huge, foreign place and so I yell at them to “stay by me or I will ground you until Kim Kardashian has her baby and then make you watch the 4-hour Special Delivery episode on repeat!!!” until I’m hoarse. So many scenarios of death, injury, kidnapping and dirty looks from strangers running through my mind but all my kids see is my mad face. And they think it’s their fault. I’ve become the fun-sucker.

Another problem is that being that scared all the time – the clenched jaw, the hypervigilance, the waddling so I can keep that stick firmly up my butt – is exhausting. By the end of each day, I collapse in my hotel bed completely spent both physically and emotionally. I avoid going to sleep (like I’m doing right now, oh hello Midnight!) because I’m afraid of all the unknowns in tomorrow. My sleep is interrupted every 20 minutes by children or nightmares. I wake up stiff and sore.  But it all feels Worth It because, hey, we’re all still alive right? I’m a walking zombie.

And lastly, while this isn’t quite as severe, fear makes me a seriously crappy driver. I’m so afraid of getting lost that I’ve got my GPS glued to one hand and I’m so busy trying not to miss my exit that I completely forget to do stuff like, oh, check my blind spot. Confession: I ran into a pole at the zoo. No one was hurt thankfully but my van looks like we drove into the rhino cage.

So in the interest of public safety and not shortening my own lifespan, I need to find a way to stop being so afraid of everything. Part of the solution, I think, will be finally moving into our house (in two weeks!) so I can start to reassemble my normal coping/comfort mechanisms. But until then what else can I do? Telling myself not to freak doesn’t work in the slightest.

I stumbled upon an unlikely solution. And it turns out I have the coyotes to thank for it.

The other night my husband wanted to go explore some of the magnificent scenery here in Colorado so we packed up our kids and headed out to Red Rocks. A mere 50 feet up the Red Rocks trail, we ran into a very friendly fellow hiker who told us that a mountain lion was sighted further up on the trail. Then she added this dire warning: “That plus all the coyotes around – you’d better keep a grip on your kids. They love toddlers!”

I went into full mom-panic mode. I picked Jelly Bean up (and didn’t set her down for the entire rest of the hike – which also might be a reason I woke up sore?) and yelled at my husband to grab Son #3. What had been a beautiful twilight hike in some of the most gorgeous territory on the planet suddenly turned into my worst nightmare. As we climbed the rocky trail, all my husband could see was the soaring stone cathedrals. All I could see was the phantom image of a burly cat snatching my baby out of my arms and bounding off into the wilderness, never to be seen again. I kept my eyes firmly in front of me, looking for tracks or snapped branches or – heaven help me – beady eyes glowing in the dark.

I desperately wanted to turn back, get my babies back to the (battered) metal fortress of our car, but my husband insisted we go all the way to the top. Which we did. We saw nary a trace of a predator but the view was even more breathtaking than promised. My kids loved it. My husband loved it. I wish I could say I loved it. But I was still so locked in my fear spiral that I just couldn’t. I couldn’t let my guard down enough to appreciate the beauty that always accompanies the wild.

On the way back down I carried my son, completely unaware of the mortal terror I’d been instilling in him drop by drop all evening. “Mom,” he whispered in my ear, “I think I see glowing eyes! They’re going to eat me!!” Trying to comfort him – that’s my job, right? – I sounded as brave as I could and repeated something I’d been told as a kid. “Well, if you can see their eyes that’s actually a good thing! Mountain lions usually jump you from behind so if you can see them looking at you, it means they’re just curious!” Who knows if that’s even true? But it seemed to make him feel better. And then I sprinted down the rest of the mountain.

[Side note: Jelly Bean, like toddlers everywhere, was completely un-mired by fear. Her only note about the wildlife was when we pointed out a deer to her and she exclaimed, “Why he not fly?! WHERE IS SANTA?” Haha, wrong deer. I love little kids’ brains.]

The next day as I scurried through a park, herding my children angrily (fearfully) away from the river made both beautiful and dangerous by the class III rapids, I suddenly felt someone staring at me. It was a man. He was standing right at the edge of the river, his own small children running up and down the shore, not even within arm’s reach. As I looked back at him, I expected to see pity or even judgement in his eyes (crazy over-protective mom!) but instead he just grinned at me. And that was it. He turned back to watch the kayakers (that I’d barely noticed) doing amazing tricks.

His casual smile unlocked something in me. I remembered what I’d told my son about the coyotes’ and mountain lion’s eyes – that if you could see them it meant they weren’t going to attack you – and realized that I needed to stop treating everyone like a threat. And while I don’t know how to make myself unafraid, I certainly do know how to look at someone in the eyes and smile. So that became my mantra: look at everyone – animal or human, surly teen or grandfather, hotel maid or librarian – meet their eyes and smile. Say hello. What I discovered is that everyone inevitably smiles back. Seriously, everyone. And all those smiles make the world feel a lot safer!

I can’t change the fact that we yanked the kids out of a school they loved. I can’t change the fact that I lost all my dearest and deepest friends in one fell swoop*. I can’t change the fact that we’re living in limbo. I can’t change the fact that at least ten times a day my husband and I look at each other and say Did we do the right thing? Really? I certainly can’t change the fact that there are coyotes and mountain lions and stupidly menacing cartoon characters in this world. But I can look up, meet someone’s eyes and smile. I can do that. (And I can remember that for as difficult as this is right now, honestly it’s going as smoothly as it possibly could. I have much to be grateful for.)

So the moral of the story is, it’s never the big stuff that you think is going to save you, it’s the little stuff you weren’t even thinking about because you were too afraid to look.

Everyone is scared sometimes – how do you deal with fear? Do you have any other tips for me? Also, do you say coyote “ky-o-TEE” or “KY-oat”? I’ve heard it both ways since we’ve been here and it’s driving me NUTS. I mean it’s clearly “ky-o-TEE” right? Kind of like Spanish??

*A few of you have pointed out (rightly so) in previous posts that neither my friends nor I am dying and that this is what Facebook is made for. And while I agree with the general premise, there is a certain amount of intimacy that only comes from proximity. While I am sure that all the gym buddies and I will remain friends forever, without being a part of the everyday minutiae of their lives much of that closeness is lost. It’s a new phase of friendship and while it’s just a part of life, so is mourning the loss of this phase of our friendship. Allow me that, please:) I promise it won’t last forever!

 

58 Comments

  1. I feel your pain. Gulp.

    One day you will be in your cozy home with autumn leaves falling down. You will have cookies baking in the oven and little backpacks and rosy cheeked babies gathered around the oven, waiting for the cookies to come out.

    Hang in there. Thinking of you.

  2. Your country neighbors in Wyoming say “KY oat .” City people say “Ky OAT ee”
    A beautiful thing about living in the Front Range is… the Front Range. Unless you are in a blizzard it is hard to get really lost because you always can see where West is.

    I hope you get to enjoy a lot of fun activities this summer. Have you got to the Children’s Museum yet? The Aquarium is right nearby and they can both be done in one day pretty easily.

    • We have been to the Children’s museum! And the zoo, and the Museum of Science and Nature. And a bunch of other places. Funny how much you get out when you’re all crammed into a tiny hotel room;) Thank you for the suggestions though – we’ve enjoyed all of it and I’m super impressed at how helpful and friendly Coloradans are!

  3. Charlotte, I’m pretty sure that, once again, we are EMOTIONS TWINS. When I saw the title of this post I was like, she’s done it again. I so hear you. Every word. I don’t have children, but my fear manifests itself in different “I’m losing everything” sensations. I have a little thing I say to myself when my thoughts start to tell me that everything is falling away from me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it: fear is not real. Love is real. And then I try to think about all the love in my life. Friends, family, my boyfriend, strangers who smile at me, friends I have yet to meet, my yoga teacher who is always so happy and nice. This, I tell myself, is real. The fear is a construct of my own mind, and it doesn’t have to control me. This cognitive approach takes practice and sometimes I just can’t get it to work, but sometimes it does, and then I find relief and a little bit of freedom. I love you and love your writing. It helps me on a daily basis and I hope you know that I and many others love you and think about you as warmly as a close friend. Sending you lots of love during this hard transition. Have faith.

    • Thank you for this Emily! I love your mantra. This: ” fear is not real. Love is real. And then I try to think about all the love in my life.” is so powerful and I love this approach! I’m well practiced in CBT so I will definitely give this a try. Glad to know I’m not the only one who gets to this state…

  4. Thank you Charlotte! Living the hotel dream right there with you although we don’t have a destination or time frame for (semi?) permanency yet. Just a week or two here then into a popup in Anna’s (sister) backyard. The potential is not before 8/1.
    I am sorry you have the anger/fear but I am grateful you shared. I don’t feel so alone…

    • (((hugs))) Cathy! Transitions are hard. But hey, at least Anna’s got a nice backyard! I hope you find your dream house soon!

  5. It’s true that your friends are still there, and you can still communicate, but I completely agree; it’s not the same as seeing them every day. Hang in there!

    I, too, like familiar surrounding. I like knowing where I’m going, what I’m doing, etc. Take me out of my comfort zone and I am likely to get very cranky, I can’t seem to help it.

    I’ve heard both, but usually say ky-o-tee. I’ve always thought ky-oat was kind of slang-y. 🙂

  6. This is so spot on. I have a friend who was raised in “fear” and I can tell you it is really debilitating and gets old quickly. Fear in adults usually comes out as anger or some other tense and difficult emotional reaction. There is lots to be fearful of, but you’re husband’s right usually we fear the wrong things.

    • Good point about it going back to how we were raised. You definitely gave me more to think on… hmmm

  7. The uncertainty and unknown is always fear-inspiring. So sorry you are having to go through that and the ‘loss’ of what you did know. I went to the same thing when we moved to Texas for my job, leaving our kids behind with friends in order to finish up their current semester of school – made me a little more than perklempt. It’s hard to take that deep breath and walk of the ledge…but it will be worth it, once things begin feeling familiar. Funny thing about moving to Texas….see, there are no straight streets here, so the concept of east vs. west, north vs. south was not existent….so about a month or so after we moved here, I had to take a detour that completely made me lose my bearings, the road that I thought was going south had curved and I was going east…yeah, I got lost on my way to work. Funny thing, now our mantra is “we can’t go anywhere without going around the block at least once” Somehow you need to find the humor, Sweetie…laughing helps.

    Oh and my first thought when your son said he was afraid the coyote would come in and get him? Coyotes have no opposable thumbs, so they can’t work the doorknob 🙂 Bwahahaha

    And when my boys were little and they were afraid to walk down the semi-dark hallway because they felt like someone was following them? I told them it was their guardian angel trying to keep up….always try to find the funny 🙂

    I, too, have trouble getting the monkeys in my brain to shut up! I have 2 things I do, and they are both a form of meditation….
    1) I say the Miraculous Medal prayer [I know you are LDS, just sharing 🙂 ]
    2) I do the alphabet thankful prayer…start with A “A” I am thankful for …., “B” I am thankful for…you get it 🙂

    ((((((((HUGS)))))))))

    • Aw thank you Renee! I love all your suggestions! Especially the alphabet prayer because that would be a great one to do with my kids. The thankful game! Love you!!

  8. You can do it!! We just made it 2400 miles with our 4 babies and I was a genuine fun sucker for most of the trip. I hope it’s just something you go through when you are uncomfortable and everyone is out of their comfort zones.

    • So glad your move went well! And thanks for the sympathy – esp. since your little ones are even younger than mine! Fun suckers, unite!;)

  9. Leaving all your friends is traumatic. Esp when you are an adult and no longer in school, and you have to make new friends. End of story.

    Two of my dearest closest friends moved away over the last two years, and two others live in another country. And I never think, gee, I wish I could like their status update on the Facebook! I think, I wish I could be doing this/seeing this/sharing this with them in person right here right now.

    So be sad. Nothing wrong or selfish about that.

    And moving is scary too! Hang in there, Charlotte!

    • ” I think, I wish I could be doing this/seeing this/sharing this with them in person right here right now.” Exactly. Thank you for understanding:))

  10. Alyssa (azusmom)

    You are ABSOLUTELY allowed to mourn the loss of your former life!!!!!!!
    I just woke up early to do some serious mom-worrying. (And I know you said it didn’t work for you, but EFT has worked wonders.) some of us are really good at imagining horrible scenarios, and it takes effort to stop those imaginings in their tracks.
    I LOVE your method of looking at people with openness instead of fear!

    As far as coyotes go, I defer to Looney Tunes & pronounce of “coyoTEE.” As in Wile E.

    • You know, your experience with EFT really makes me want to try it again!! I love that it’s helping you so much!

  11. Charlotte, I (a long time lurker) miss your Gym Buddies, so I can only imagine how much you must miss them! You feel free to take as long as you need to grieve over this change. You will be better for it in the long run.

    (((hugs)))

    • Hahah thank you Jill! My Gym Buddies miss you guys too. We all had a good thing going, you know?

  12. I love smiling at people when I walk by. It’s so cool to see their eyes light up and smile too. 🙂

    Try not to worry too much Charlotte…honest. All my life I have I lived where we have coyotes about and I still go for runs and walks by the river. I have yet to be eaten or know anyone who has been munched upon yet 🙂

    • Thank you for the reality check on the coyotes! I’m sure you’re right and as I get used to them here I know I’ll chill out. I think it was just bad timing as my OCD was just looking for something to latch on to;)

  13. That sounds very rough. And of course you are mourning leaving your friends. Facebook is nice but no, not the same at all. Hopefully there can be some visiting eventually.

    I don’t have quite that degree of fear spiral much but I remember a bad one a few years ago. Right before I went on a camping trip, a friend of mine had told me this story about camping way out in the wilderness and racoons actually unzipping her tent they were so determined. That visual got in my head and held fast. So I went on this trip…to a camp ground where I’d been many many times, where I’d never once so much as seen a raccoon or anything larger than a squirrel, where my friends were camped just a few feet away…and got into this terrible fear spiral that racoons would ..I don’t know..attack my tent? (It was just me in my tent) It was weird, and completely illogical and I knew it was illogical, but I couldn’t seem to make it stop that night. Kept thinking i heard them. Till I finally finally fell asleep. I think what was really going on was a whole lot of unrelated work and personal life stress and big real life fears and maybe a wish of having someone to lean on in regular life once in a while… that somehow got incorporated into the bizarre raccoon fear. The next night, same place, I didn’t even think about it and had a peaceful night. Odd eh? So I can understand having fears that aren’t entirely logical and are hard to stop once they’ve started. You aren’t crazy or if you are you certainly aren’t alone.

    • No odd at all! And your raccoon story made me giggle a little because I remember one time I actually got cornered by a band of hissing raccoons. It was pretty scary! Glad you ended up having a good trip!

  14. I tend to be fearful–I burst into tears when we moved to Los Angeles from Calgary, Canada, and I realized that there were millions of people there and I didn’t know a single one. My strategy was to join a running club and a cycling club. I think your strategy of smiling at people is great. Don’t underestimate the stress of moving and leaving the familiar behind, and give yourself time to adjust–it will get better.
    Thanks to my grandparents, I’ve never been afraid of the wild. I grew up in the city, but they lived on a farm and we visited regularly. My grandfather took us on walks in the woods and I remember vividly one sunset walk when we were standing in a clearing surrounded by coyotes, invisible in the forest, yelping to one another. He taught me that wild animals are generally more afraid of you than you are of them–a cougar or coyote has to be pretty hungry or ill to attack people. Coyotes are opportunists, though, and often come into cities to snack on pets (they inhabit the river valley and ravines where I live). Learning about the wild things and their behavior mitigates the fear and is the approach I’ve taken with my own son. It seems to be working. Maybe get some books from the library or find a nature club that does educational walks or hikes in your area.
    You’ve made a huge change, but you’ll adjust and a year from now you’ll wonder what you were so afraid of. I wish you and your family all the best. It sounds like your new hometown is beautiful.

    • Aw, I love your grandparents now! And good advice about joining some clubs. We immediately found a church to go to and have been making some friends that way. I’m also looking for a good gym for our family and I think that will help too:) Glad your move went well and I hope you are enjoying Cali now!

  15. I feel your pain! We’re making a second big move (4 hours to DC) after a cross country move less than 2 years ago. I’m definitely mourning the place and the friends that are just starting to feel like home. Add that too post-wedding letdown and I’m an emotional wreck these days too. It will be okay though. It has to be 🙂

    • I was just thinking that you have the whole wedding + move thing! Your whole life essentially got turned upside down. ((hugs)) We’ll get through this together;)

  16. Feeling your pain! We’ve spent the last year just a few hours from our home (heading back in a couple months) and yet I feel so disconnected from my friends there! I have been blessed with a whole crop of new, forever-friends, but I’m sad because I know that being nearby cannot be captured by facebook, email, or texting. I am sorry – praying that you find a new crop of delightful friends to help you feel warm, safe, and WELCOME. You haven’t ‘lost’ anyone, but it can feel like it for awhile!

    On the smiling thing: I ALWAYS smile and wish people hello, good day, etc. And I grew up a city girl. My farm-boy husband insists that no one in our current ‘home’ ever ever smiles back or replies with a verbal greeting. He had to declare defeat when I disproved that over and over and over…on the train, bus, street in suburb or downtown. Smiling (first or back) ALWAYS brightens everyone’s day! Good for you – keep going and growing.

    • So true about a smile brightening everyone’s day! It really does work! And good luck with your move back – transistions are tough! I’m sure your old friends will be delighted to have you back though and you’ll fit right back in:)

  17. I’m so glad that the man by the river smiled at you – it’s amazing how powerful a smile can be!! I can’t even imagine the 100s of things that are running through your mind all the time right now. I hope that soon, the fear (for you as well as your kids) starts to lesses and gradually goes away. Until then, I hope that you have plenty of support!!!

  18. Good luck and God Bless on your struggles to adjust to a new situation. That can be scary and difficult for all involved.Remember to try and look at this all as a new adventure, not just a new way to be scared for your kids. Sounds like your hubby is well on his way.

    When my kids were little, our remedy for fear, especially at night, was to keep a can of “Monster Away Spray” handy at all times. (Otherwise known as Lysol or air freshener, whichever was handy.) We even has a little chant we would say with the kids as we sprayed the spray. It really made a difference with our children. Not sure how it would work for adults, but give it a try. The worst that could happen is the spray covers the dirty sock smell from the hamper.

    According to Websters, you can pronounce coyote either way and be correct. I vote for “KY-oat” Only city folk put the eeee on the end.

    Many of us survived well before there were seat belts or concerns with child abductors. We were essentially set free to terrorize the community, and did so on a regular basis. Somehow we made it to adulthood. Your kids will too. The only question is how well prepared they will be emotionally. Remember that one downside of this age of information overload is that we all tend to focus on all the negative in the world. As you said at the end of your post, we need to focus more on all God’s goodness and grace and less on our fears.

    • Thank you for the reality check Kevin! And I love your “monster spray” idea. I think my kids might love that a little too much though and end up using it to banish their brothers as well;)

  19. We went to Scottsdale, AZ in March to visit some friends. On Mondays, the golf course behind their house is closed so the residents use it to walk on. We were only 20 yds. from their home when two dogs crossed the fairway ahead of us. Except they weren’t dogs, they were coyotes. They paid no attention to us. We went a little further and saw lots of rabbits on the course. My guess is that as long as there are rabbits, squirrels, and other small animals around, the coyotes aren’t interested in people.
    And I know moving is scary, but look at it as a great adventure, at least in front of your children. When we moved 20 years ago with a 7 ,6, and 4 year old, we played up all of the new friends and experiences we would have. And these would be added to, not replace, our old friends and experiences. It was a pretty easy transition and my children had no issues when it came time to head off to college (in another state). I like to think we helped them be a bit more independent by always emphasizing the new and exciting aspect of changing your situation.

    • Good point about coyotes’ natural diet. And there sure are plenty of rabbits and prairie dogs here to keep them busy! I love your perspective of making it an adventure. I’m trying:) We’ve done a lot of fun things and I think for however tense I am, the kids are still having a pretty good time. I hope!

  20. There are coyotes around here (pronounced “cotes” here, which probably won’t help you much there!). They will go after pets (our cat is INSIDE only), but leave humans alone. Yes, a toddler isn’t much bigger than a pet, but they’re much noisier, and unless you’re completely out of sight and sound (which you obviously wouldn’t be), you’ll be there too, in the coyotes’ estimation.
    And even though I said that about pets, I’ve seen a cat grow from a kitten to mature outside – rare sightings, but I just saw it again today, walking on our fence. I think the coyotes really subsist mainly on voles and rabbits.

  21. I’m still too raw from our own similar experience to really say much except that I know exactly what you’re feeling. And i’m still kinda in it. You’ll find peace. In tiny places, but you’ll start to find it.
    The limbo state is the hardest. As you move into your new home, things will start to get better and though the ache for what you left will hover around, you’ll be able to relax a little and get your bearings.
    I’m pulling for you.
    Loves!

    • Thanks Liz:) Huge hugs to you too! It’s a very vulnerable feeling and I’m glad you are finding tiny pockets of peace. It will get better, for both of us. I’m pulling for you too!

  22. Last year I took a personality psychology class at university. We learned about the big five personality traits: introversion/extroversion, neuroticism, agreeableness, conscientiousness, and openness to experience. I had to accept that I am rather high on the neuroticism scale and there’s not much I can do about it as it seems to be genetic (my mother is very high as well), but somehow knowing this allows me to be a little bit kinder to myself. I feel envious, however, of people who are low on neuroticism, because things don’t bother them as much, and they don’t seem to have as many worries. I occasionally take supplements such as schizandra to calm myself before exams, and I know I would benefit from meditation and more yoga.

    • Haha – too funny you brought this up because I just took the same quiz and I too scored VERY high on neuroticism. Good point about how sometimes you just need to learn to maximize what you have rather than try and change into something you’re not. Love this.

  23. I have moved a lot when I was young & it is hard – I don’t know why people have to say you “will get over it”.. it hurts & after all the posts we read of you & your friends & the closeness – I get it! HUGS!!!

  24. I hope you are over the hump with your move soon, I think it’s very normal to be a bit unsettled by a big move. I’m sure you are doing a great job of reassuring your kids, don’t be too hard on yourself! I’m glad you are starting to see some of the new possibilities peeking in there too around the edges.

  25. I can’t say that I can empathize with you much (sorry)… I live in the same town I grew up in. I’m very happy here and am so happy my kids will grow up here. I love to travel and see new things and meet new people. I tend to assume that almost all people are good and that they won’t do me harm (partly because I grew up in a small town and still live here, I’m sure). Best of luck in your move and I’m sure when you’re settled, you’ll look back and feel like this phase passed fairly quickly.
    In my opinion, it’s ky-o-tee… Like Wile E. Coyote from Looney Tunes! 🙂

  26. KI-O-Tee for me.

    I, too, am held captive by my fears sometimes. One thing that a friend told me once that kind of helped was that when I’m on repeat-fear mode and I couldn’t get a scary scenario out of my head, I should just acknowledge the fear, that the scary scenario could happen (or not) but that there was nothing I could do about it. And then let it go. I think the acknowledgement part was the most important, because I was always wrestling with denying the scary thoughts, not letting them in and examining them. It doesn’t always work, but it sometimes does like a charm.

    Moving is so hard, and I feel for you. Hang in there 🙂

    • Good point about giving myself permission to acknowledge the fear and the feelings around it. I think I’ve been so caught up in trying to be “strong” for my kids that I think I’m not allowed to feel scared too. Of course my kids are way smarter than I give them credit for so I will def. take your suggestion:) It can’t hurt!

  27. Bear in mind the fact that the coyote (ky-oh-TEE) is likely to be more afraid of you than you are of it. Previous poster was right: natural diet is squirrels and bunnies, not toddlers. Do keep any kitties and teeny dogs indoors, though. I’ve seen one or two on runs up in the hills and they always look terrified if us big, noisy, smelly humans. (Raccoons around here, on the other hand, look like they plan to take me OUT. Even when I’m on my bike. Little barstuds.)

    In re: pronunciation. Check out Coyote Blue by Christopher Moore from your new local library. It’s fantastically funny and it will help you understand the correct way to say coyote. Which is both ways, but dependent on the situation. 🙂

  28. You don’t know me, but your article is exactly what I needed! It is nice to not be alone in my fears. We recently just sold our small home in Utah and bought a bigger home on the mountains in Utah. Our backyard will back National Forest property. 3 days after our offer was accepted I started having nightmares of the wildlife, specifically Cougars, getting my three small boys, 4 months, 2 and 5. I haven’t conquered my fears, but my husband feels strongly this is the perfect house for us. I am trying to have faith and trust him. Many many people live on the mountain and I haven’t heard of a child here being eaten yet… I am trying hard not to be the fun sucker, but feel like I am in a permanent nightmare that won’t go away! Anyways, I am glad to not feel alone in my fear. My children are my life and I am so greatful to have them.

    Thanks for sharing!

  29. I may have missed your reason for moving…can you share? We may be looking at moving South. As I mentioned in a previous comment, I do NOT want to move. Leaving my friends, my community, everything. I get your need to mourn being close. Us moving isn’t even close to set in stone yet, but I am already FEEEEEELING the possibility of leaving everything I’ve ever known.

    • Huge hugs Lisa! I totally know how you feel. I’m honestly still in mourning too. I try not to think about my old home, friends etc at all because it still feels like a knife in my gut. It’s heartbreaking and like you pointed out in your other comment, being an HSP only compounds all the feelings! It hurts, girl. Not gonna lie. But the thing that has probably helped me the most is feeling like God has a plan for me in all this. The move (which was because of my husband’s job) is not capricious and it will ultimately work to make me a better person. As you said your husband is a pastor, perhaps this will comfort you too??

  30. It helps my mind! Thank you and huge hugs back at ya!

  31. Pingback:5 Reasons Why Life Isn’t Fair [You try explaining the Syrian crisis to a first grader. No, seriously, please try. I need help.]