Fear came at me like a wild bear, knawing and knawing at the water; trying to get a fish in it’s jaws. I was the fish, and by the time I was ten years old, my father had solidified his place as the bear. Through fists of fire and pure misery, he taught me obidience. Through hateful words and hollow threats, he taught me self-deprecation. I was ten years old, caught in the jaws of despair and pain; dipped in a bowl of tainted love and thrown to the bear of paranoia.
My family usually ate dinner in silence, with the exception of the loud nights; of the arguments between my parents. My mother was the warrior, trying to keep her village safe, and my father was the wild bear. He was out for blood. He wanted to make everyone miserable and that was his game; that was his goal. When we did eat dinner together, my mother would attempt to lighten the stale mood into something remeniscent of an imitation of the ideal dinner conversation, but it never worked. She was always disappointed. She was always shut down.
My father slept around with other women. I think my mother had always known that it was going on, but through the years, she never said a word about it. I could never understand why, but as I aged, I could recognize the look in her eyes when my father would arrive home after a long day at work with the woman in the cubicle next to him. The bear had gotten her too. The thing is, hers was different. Hers was the bear of denial; arguabley the hardest of them all to face. When it has you in it’s jaw, you cannot help but imagine that it’s not there; even as it digs it’s mistreating jaws into your skin. Into your mind. Your heart. Your stomach, making you sick with sadness.
The day that the bear finally left wasn’t an easy one in the slightest. I can still remember the screaming, the crying, as if it were just yesterday; as if it had happened only minutes ago. I was the only one home, and he took his rage out on me. Twelve years old, reduced to cowering in a corner like a toddler. I was looking into the bear’s cold, unfavoring eyes with tear-stained ones; begging it to stop biting. Pleading for it to just go away.
Flash forward two years, and my bear has changed. No longer is he my aging, brutal father. He is a teenage boy, with a lean and tall figure. He is my first love. He makes me keep our love in the dark. He is ashamed of us. He is ashamed of me.
My new bear has a perfect vision of whom he wants to be with. He wants me, sure, but there’s something else. He has an obsession with appearance. Weight is not perceived by how I look to him. It’s by the number on the scale. If I’m not a ripe one hundred and twelve pounds, the bear bites. He sinks his teeth into my face, my neck, and my ribs. He wants the weight gone, but there’s nowhere for it to go. It’s just there.
A year and a half later, my bear has found a new victim. I caught them together, and I paid the price. The bear bit me one last time as I ran from his house, never looking back, but still feeling the searing pain of the jaws entering my flesh. I may have left him, but he hasn’t left me.
Through the years that go on, my bear loses his physical shape. He becomes a blurred void. Man after man fills it, but gets old sooner or later. I fall in love, only to fall off of my high horse within the month or next. Days go by, and I feel my lungs ache from the cigarette smoke that I respirate through my body. My eyes are sore from watching my life flash before them, never bothering to stop for a moment to smell the blood-stained roses. My bear has become my darkest secrets. My fear of commitment. My fear of physicality. My fear of people. It all stems from one thing. My original bear.
From my father, I learned what it truly means to know fear. I learned that fear is the air that surrounds us; pressing onto our skin, pushing through our hair. It is a constant reoccurence of pains, like little pins are sticking into your skin with every eye that darts to you. You can’t ignore it. It creeps up your spinal chord, around your shoulders, through your heart, and into your lungs; making you breathe heavy. It makes you feel like you have cinderblocks in them, forcing you to pull and pull for air. It’s a lifetime prison of panicing paranoia that never ceases to exist. Your bear will always have it’s teeth in you. You can never outrun him; no matter how hard you try. I know that for sure because now, I am my own bear.
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140,586 Literary Works • 673,541 Reviews
Wow. Just amazing. I've read other pieces by you but this is just amazing. I adore the way you describe your relationship with your father. It's so original and that's why it's one of my favorites. The creativity sparks through every word as you describe with such detail how hard life was for you at the time. I loved it.
Although I cannot relate, I can feel the emotions through you words written down. I think that as you show this piece to people who don't have a situation like this, they will appreciate their relationships more. I love how everyone can read this piece but look at it differently.
I hope hope hope you write more and continue to share your work with me. I am truly inspired.
Thank you so much for writing this beautiful piece and sharing your bear with us. You're very inspiring. I wish I could find something to critique about this piece, but it's awesome and so are you .
You never fail in the dramatic aspect of things Tommo. I do believe this is my first time seeing this non-fiction piece by you and honestly I love it. It feels very real and raw, a feeling that sometimes gets lost. I love the way you number thing, it reminds me a lot of Meditations which I believe this to be heavily based off of such (for obvious reasons).
I also love the bear metaphor/images. I maybe biased because I love bears but I think it's beautiful. Awesome job, kid.
I can also really relate to this. My biological dad left me when I was in 5th grade, and me and my step-dad are a constant struggle. He and my mom are always fighting, he takes it out on me, finds ways to blame me, or just alienates me for not being his natural daughter. My first boyfriend was definitely starting to fill out the bear persona, and it took not being able to see him all summer to realize this and be able to end it. After I broke it off, he definitely became a bear, but it ended so that's good. I'm lucky to have a boyfriend now whom I've adored since I was a little middle schooler and who is everything to me but a bear. Hopefully, it stays that way.
This was very well written, and di a very good job of drawing the reader in and keeping them in. It was a lot easier to read than most articles, probably because I relate and it's interesting. And it was so heart felt, I felt your emotions the entire time, I felt for you, I wanted to give you a big hug and cry a little. Which is good, cause lots of emotional works overdo it, causing a "shoveling emotions down your throat" effect, which often does the opposite of the intended.
I did see a few typos/spelling/grammar booboos, and if they've already been pointed out to you, I apologize for being redundant.
Through fists of fire and pure misery, he taught me *obedience
*obedience
It’s a lifetime prison of *panicing paranoia that never ceases to exist. Your bear will always have it’s teeth in you.
*panicking
I learned that fear is the air that surrounds us; pressing onto our skin, pushing through our hair.
For this, I'd write the second sentence as "pressing onto our skin and pushing through our hair" since you've only got two. That's just an aesthetic opinion though, not a grammar rule.
You can’t ignore it. It creeps up your spinal chord, around your shoulders, through your heart, and into your lungs; making you breathe *heavy.
*should be heavily, since it's an adverb
It all stems from one thing. My original bear.
This sentence would have more impact and get rid of a fracture by using the semi-colon in place of the period btw. the two sentences.
Those are all I saw, hope it was helpful. Thank you for sharing this, it was great and so honest and real.
Thank you. This is my most personal piece and the first time I've actually talked about any of these things, so the fact that you liked it so much makes me feel accomplished.
And I'm glad that you've found your happiness and that you're with someone that really cares for you. Everyone deserves their happiness. Fear is one of those things that I completely despise. It's really screwed my life over and now that I've gotten through it, I can see it for what it is.
Thank you for liking my piece. This was really hard to talk about and I'm glad that it went well.
Thank you
Wow. Wow. I won't lie, I teared up at this. My biological dad struggled with crippling mental illness, and my first stepdad was an abuser. I've spent a lot of time and tears and effort trying to repair my life after they left it, and this put into painful, accurate words what I've never really been able to.
Thank you for writing this.
Oh my god. Thank you, so much. The reason that I posted this nonfiction piece instead of another was because I hoped that someone would read it and be touched by it. The fact that it touched you and helped you make these feelings physically there makes me feel like I've done something good. I hope that you find happiness and a way to flee from your fear. When you do, your world will lighten up. I promise.
OH MY GOSH!!
This is really REALLY GOOD!
Great metaphors!
It catches your attention and you cant stop reading XD
There is a few things that was weird though, the word choices:
(#'s are what # they are in...)
1. When you say knowing at the water, bears don't knaw at water, it's the wrong word... it's more like swiping or scooping. Or you could say slashing to better fit the mood.
2. Stale mood, I mean it fits but it doesn't exactly fit right... stale is like boring and dry.. or at least that's what I think... Tense would be a better word, it's more befitting of your poems mood.
3. Mistreating jaws? It doesn't exactly flow correctly. Also for this one when you say digs, you should replace it with sinks. Digs is an action more used for claws. Sinks his jaws vs. digs his jaws
7. Searing pain... searing is more like if you burn yourself.. I'm not sure if you meant that or not but it could be replaced with a different word... I don't know what though XD
9. Making you breath heavy would sound better as making your breathing heavier also panicing should be panicking
Um but yeah.. I feel bad saying these things but they are just some weird things that sounded off...
Overall you're poem IS AMAZING!
It's really good, I'm not just saying that
KEEP UP THE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD WORK
(so good you got more than two O's XD)
It's not a poem. It's Creative Nonfiction, but thank you so much! There are a few parts where I should change some of my word choices. and I don't mind the O's ha ha. They're quite nice ha ha
Okay, I'm sorry for being so picky XD
It Really is good
O'S TIMES INFINITY XD