You never truly understand what fear is until it’s looms over you and engulfs every last breath you have. You look at it straight in the face as the sensation of breathlessness takes over and you find yourself struggling to stay afloat, drowning in your thoughts. Consumed by the feelings of despair, worry, or even anger, you attempt to take control of the situation and visualize yourself swimming to the top of the water. But you can’t. You continue to sink further and further down, losing all sense of control as the feeling of faintness takes over. Your mind becomes numb, your head empty. This is what it feels like when anxiety takes over. You find yourself afraid of the unknown, allowing distress to consume your entire mindset. During my first experience encountering fear, I was completely and utterly distraught–my entire wavelength of thoughts fizzled away as anxiety took over and my mind was consumed by fear.
            It all started on a pleasant Wednesday afternoon in 2014–the night of the ever-important 6th grade social. Just like all the other hormonal 6th grade students, I planned on making it the best night of my life. I instead found myself living in my own personal nightmare. ‘High’ off of pixie sticks and too much Coca-Cola, I relentlessly spent my night throwing it back to “Imma Be” by The Black Eyed Peas and “Like a G6” by Far East Movement. I never once hesitated to show off my dance moves, because in middle school everyone wants to be that person. That person that’s friends with everyone. That person that’s memorable because of their outfit. Not that person known for having a house fire altering the course of their life. And unfortunately, I became that person; and not the one that’s friends with everyone. 
            Later that night, I rambled on and on to my parents about how amazing the social was, but never took note of the inevitable, calamitous weather that was threatening to terrorize our small town of Cumming, Georgia. Now, let’s be honest here. What 11 year old would care about the weather? None of them. While I did like to pretend that I was a meteorologist when I was younger, by no means could I predict the weather, nor did I care about it. If only I had some psychic superpower allowing me to see the future I may have been focused on anything other than my epic dancing, but, of course, I didn’t. Worn out that night, I chose to get my beauty sleep unreasonably early around 8:45 pm. Now, the potential tornado threats and clashes from thunder and lightning were imminent, continually picking up speed. The wind squalled, mimicking ghosts’ whooshing in a haunted house as the darkness of cumulonimbus clouds took over the blue sky. Every few seconds the sky was illuminated by a bright light as if Jesus Christ was shining through. It, however, was his “friend” Hades down below coming to wreak havoc upon the Brehm family.
            Hades. The Greek God of the Underworld: A.K.A. Hell. And Hell is what I felt like I was in. I woke up but not 15 minutes later to the most vociferous noise I had ever heard in my entire life. The entire house shook mimicking the clamor of warfare and the detonation of bombs. All at once, I heard my dad yelling “Get the cars out of the garage!” “Open the safe! Get the valuables!” and my mom panicking to get my dog and me awake and out of the house. I remember being deep in a dream about becoming the next Angelina Jolie when I was suddenly, and frantically, thrown off the bed. Being awoken so abruptly, I had little understanding as to where I was. I thought I was still in my dream, but in reality, I was awake; living through what should have been a nightmare.
            There’s something calming about steady, yet subtle, rainfall at night. The pitter-patter of raindrops on your window reminds you that you are indeed safe in your surroundings. I’m sure there was steadiness that night, but amid the pandemonium, I only noticed the uneasiness and chaos. By the time I got outside, I finally realized what was happening–red and orange flames engulfed the house presenting a heatwave of light. I’ll never forgive my mom for making me call 911–it traumatized me. At the time I wasn’t even sure as to why I was calling. I only knew that it would be best for me to remain calm, but I couldn’t help but panic, bawling at the 911 dispatcher when my dad went running back into the blazing house. After everyone was accounted for, and firefighters were on the way, was when I began to understand that my life was changing before my eyes and that I had the right to be hysterical. It took me days to completely calm myself down–which was reasonable considering our house was on fire for hours. Now people say that your lowest of lows only results in your highest of highs, and ultimately overcoming your fear. I was never a firm believer of that, especially not in the moment I was sitting back inside my destroyed bedroom wondering what was going to happen next.
            The next month was a whirlwind of living in and out of hotels, driving 30 minutes to get to school each day, and crying on my Spanish teacher’s shoulder, but I knew that eventually something was going to change. Something had to get better. It was when I was sitting in my math class about two months after the fire when my teacher asked me to talk in the hall. Uh oh. I never was a troublemaker in class and received good grades on every test. My mind immediately went to the worst possible punishment, when in reality she only wanted to know how I was doing and if I was okay. She wanted to know that I was okay: a thought that never crossed my mind. By now, I had accepted what had happened that night and realized that everything happens for a reason, even if I was convinced that Hades was reigning Hell upon us. As cliché as it sounds, it was in this moment I grasped the concept things happen, we deal with them, get stronger, and move on. I finally began to understand the motto, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” And the craziest thing is that if you told me this motto is true, I would have thought you were a liar–only around to remind me of my disaster of a life.
            Ever since our house fire 8 years ago, I have only been able to see how the fears and challenges you encounter in life aren't thrown your way to make you struggle, they're thrown your way to show you, you are much stronger than you think and that you can persevere. While I can confidently say that I never want to experience another house fire again in my life, I know that the experience made me much stronger and only enhanced my character making me who I am today. I now value things differently and appreciate the little things in life. I never hesitate to show my true colors in moments of weakness knowing that it might show someone around me that it’s okay to take a step back and react however you may need to. Of course, in the moment, fears presents themselves as a slap in the face and seem daunting. However, once you grasp the concept of mind over matter, you begin to release the feeling of worry allowing for optimism and hope to reemerge.
            When I faced my biggest fear, I was convinced my life was over. All I could think about was a cataclysm happening right before my eyes as the comfort of what I knew was slowly fading away. Comfort–what everybody clings to. Comfort makes us resist our fears and challenges, pushing them away any chance we get blinding ourselves of our own reality. While I know not everybody relates to my situation, I also know that everyone has persevered through a challenge or one of their fears, whether they know it or not. Big or small, everyone has pushed through falling behind in coursework, watching their parents’ divorce, killing a spider when they have acrophobia, or even living through a house fire. Until you’re one to experience a detrimental situation that alters your life’s course, you tend to only see fears and challenges as road blocks; simply objects blocking your path to the other side of the street. You lack the ability to empathize with others and only disable them further. You fail to sympathize because you have never overcome difficulty yourself. During the time period following my family’s house fire, I was lonely–lacking support from my friends because they didn’t understand what to do or say to help me. Until you have truly experienced a fear or challenge firsthand, you lack the emotional capacity to assist those closest to you. You find yourself searching for a way to improve your character and make yourself a better person, but ultimately can’t.
            Sitting there watching my house burn that night I tried to think about the pitter-patter of the rainfall on the windows. I tried to find something to calm me down and remind me that everything will be okay. But I didn’t. It took me months to find that tranquility. Despite the restlessness I feel whenever it rains now, I knew God had a plan for me–he was going to assure that I made it through alive and stronger than before. And I did.