Freezing: People Who Survive Like Matadors

It’s one of the privileges of my middle age, to be able to think about things in ways that once upon a time would have possibly driven me crazy, or into one vice or another. It did feel like that: vices, things that clamped onto me – rather more than anything that would shock someone. I couldn’t move. I somehow froze.
        Probably that’s something to do with fear. Fear freezes some of us; and it freezes in different ways. I was always able to think like crazy while I was stuck to the spot, clamped down, and a lot of good came out of that. I couldn’t have run if I tried. At other times I seemed to wipe myself out: erased myself (you can call it dissociation). A lot of good came out of that, too.
        If your way of avoiding danger keeps you somehow almost standing still in life (even if you’re not entirely there) so you don’t escape through flight and find yourself dislocated, lost, or you don’t resort to fight and smash it all up, perhaps you can keep going without accumulating the losses some people experience. There’s always damage to the people, the real world, around you, but if you avoid the worst extremes of narcissism, as freezers survive like matadors, and some of us get carried away with that, and you don’t in the end get gored, there’s a chance you’ll have a life to look back on where one thing more clearly leads to another. Maybe there’s more to do to make amends but less to reconcile.
        Freezers stay close to life and death, as close as you can imagine. Once you learn how to thaw, or not to freeze, at least most of the time, it’s really rather wonderful.

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