There’s a part of me- I don’t know how large or strong- that wants desperately to go into hiding. I can just picture myself scrambling to secure walls I’ve set in place and make them stronger, higher, thicker than they’ve been before.
Because I’m scared. I’m absolutely terrified of what the future will bring. I don’t know how to move forward and yet, daily I have to. I can relate to those people that are too scared to leave their house. Because why would you want to face the day? Why would you want to roam about in a world where pain sits in eager expectation around every corner?
I’m afraid of myself, of who I could become. I’m afraid of the pride that wells within me, it’s back to feelings of unworthiness growing just as high. I’m afraid of the tendencies that I have. I’m afraid of my laziness. Of my compassion. Of my stubbornness. My mistrust. My inadequacies. My self consciousness. My obnoxiousness. My ability to go unseen. My inability to hide.
The other part if me- oh how it competes with the first part- wants nothing more than to embrace everything. This part of me is fearless. It longs for the walls I have to fall and crumble beneath my feet. It wants to live each day without a care in the world. I’m excited to see the world. I’m excited to take new steps. I’m excited to learn new things. To except more responsibility. To be on my own. To have no one responsible for me. To not need to worry about anyone else when I make a descision.
But what if I don’t get to see the world? But what if these new steps destroy me? What if the new things I learn don’t stick? What if more responsibility crushes me? What if I can never be on my own? What if it’s worse to not have someone responsible for me? What if I can never make a decision for me alone?
I’m afraid fear will paralyze me.