Scared.

Scared.

Approx read time <4 min


I’m legitimately scared. This is a very rare feeling for me. I’m scared of finding out who I really am. What I am capable of.

I’ve spent so much time wishing for things, sitting around and waiting, and now I have a chance to climb the mountain and simply take it all… what if I can’t climb the mountain.

I feel weak. Unprepared. That isn’t good enough to fail, so that isn’t what is feeding my fear.

What. Is. It.

I’m sitting here in an almost shock-like state, numb in several ways. Contradicting experiences throughout the day has left me in an anxious and hopeful sadness.

Wow, what a combination of words. I don’t think I’ve ever felt those words before in that order.

Someone I know had died this morning. You think you can prepare, but you can’t. Death always comes with an internal “shutter” that doesn’t really compare in profoundness with anything else. Death demands respect.

I’ve wanted and tried to die several times in the past. It seems like a lifetime ago. I can barely relate to myself anymore. Those thoughts don’t make sense. Those feelings seem ignorant.

I’m afraid of finding out that I’m not as capable as I had led myself to believe. I’ve just learned tonight that the thing that scares me the most in life, is not measuring up to myself. Of course I’m lazy sometimes, and I forget some things, or I lose my temper and overreact, but those are just “those times” and not who I really am.

Right?!

What if I am not here for a greater purpose other than hope that some day I’ll have a chance to make an impact on this world. Have I been living in a 28 year delusion that the only thing missing, was opportunity??

Can it be, that I have no idea who I am?

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I am so so afraid of finding out. I don’t want to know. I want to stay here, living the day of possibilities. Possibilities of success before they fail. A life ahead of me, that hasn’t yet been proved worthless.

Today feels like it was the last good day. A good that is defined without a real foundation, but an abstract and perhaps imaginary one. Today is good because of ignorance and immaturity. I don’t know any better.

Today is whatever I call it because I can’t be wrong. I can choose my outlook on stepping up to the plate- I could hit a homerun, I could strike out. While I stand hopeful and confident in the batter’s box, feeling “good”, I get a moment closer to actually finding out how things are about to happen.

Can I really hit a homerun? I think I can, right?

I’m up. It’ll be over soon, and I’ll know the real truth, not abstract hope.

I kick the barrel of the bat with my right foot, then my left, and I rock it up above my shoulder into position. I pause my gaze at the dusty home base, stalling, enjoying my last moment ever of possibilities… where it’s possible that I’m about to hit a homerun… it’s possible I am capable… it’s possible things will work out well…

I tear up. I think this feeling is called scared.

I’m afraid I’m about to live in the real truth that I am not good enough. I am afraid of what I’ll do once I discover it. Will I still be breathing? Will breathing hurt?

Will living hurt?

A teardrop falls to the ground. The dry, beige sand turns to a dark brown as it quickly absorbs my teardrop. Oh god, is this my last good memory?

I want to call timeout. I want to find an excuse to leave and postpone. Stop. Stop!

I feel a cold on my cheek where my tear had been. I close my eyes, and breathe… a chill from deep down shook me and I suddenly feel alert. Lucid. Serene.

An oasis of comfort washes over me clearing away the fog created by fear.

There is nothing I can do to change my human potential, either I can or I can’t.

And I’m lucky enough to be able to find out.

Tomorrow, I meet myself for the first time.

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