Imprisonment

My biggest fear is jail time.
Not the inmates or the institution or the showers.
The spacial confinement.
When I was a child I was afraid of being locked into things.
Closets, rooms, haunted houses, roller coaster cars.
I had panic attacks whenever I was playfully smothered.
Or held down or had my arms pinned.
I took no pleasure in play wrestling or being tickled.
Overt restriction of any kind terrified me.
As I grew older this fear expanded.
I became afraid of crowded places.
Places I had never been.
Unknown social situations.
Over the years I had run ins with the law.
An enclosed cell became my jittery, trembling, sweat-soaked nightmare.
There came a point last year when I was confined.
My worst fears realized.
And my mind rattled in it's cage.
And fought and clawed against reality.
And when I was ready to give up, give in, something changed.
Shifted. Realigned. Opened up.
My surroundings were a reflection of my self.
I was restricted by my addiction.
Any exercise of my will was hollow.
Acting out for no other reason than to divert attention.
I wasn't free, I was fleeing.
Of course I was afraid of prison, I was constantly on the run.
From responsibilities, from consequences, from emotions, from anything I could out distance.
I got a glimpse of what being free was.
Comfort in my own skin. Ease. Peace.
Ultimately I discovered everything that is outside is uncontrollable. People, places, situations.
I can control myself and my reactions.
With an honest look at who I am, what I want, and how I act I can put my feet on the path of being truly free. Freedom within myself regardless of my situation or geography.

Now I rarely think of jail or cells or locked things. And I'm farther away from them than I've ever been. Only the ghost of my past fear remains.

Slowly dissipating.