Meeting with Terror

I wake and I wonder
What to do with terrors in the night
Moments of fear that seemed to linger
For years away from the coziness
Of sweet sugar plum dreams.

And I yearn for gentle streams,
Gleaming and sparkling with rays of light.
I know that even darkness holds its place in this life,
No matter how painful, scary, or beautiful it may be.
Perhaps I should offer it a cup of tea?
Cover the room with rose petals and burn incense,
Ask why it has come to be in this space,
Even as this gesture seems out of place—
Maybe this is exactly where it should be?

I ask terror, “Why have you come?
Why does it feel as though my peace has been undone?”
The terror replied in a low tone,
“Peace is not yours to own, nor light, or beauty,
Or even the glittering streams.
In the grand scheme of it all,
The only thing you will hold is change.
You may sit in the sunshine,
But you will be met by the night.
Likewise, you may sit in the moonlight,
But inevitably be greeted by the break of day.

Your peace will come in the understanding
That with heaven, will also come hell.
To find the water, you will have to break down
Below the surface and find a well.
Peace comes in the reverence of chaos,
For holding on too tightly to the idea of stillness,
Will have the slightest breeze
Bring you to your knees.
Wondering why you have become shy
To the idea of moving waters.

So here you have found yourself in a current,
Wondering why peace has gone and I have come.
Maybe, my dear one, you should ask yourself
Why you hold on so tightly to things
You believe to be set in stone,
When even that becomes grains to the wind in the end,
Never truly to be the same again.
Change is the only thing here to stay.
So I return a question to the sender,
In hopes to ignite flames from embers,
And I ask you… Why have you come to me?”

I took a moment to reply.
I sit and I ponder, and again I do wonder,
Not why I’m in this moment here,
Or why peace is not near,
But why I’m caught at the crossroads
Of dark and light, joy and fright, wrong and right.

With each passing hour and each evening shower,
It all passes away to be something new.
Yet here I am caught in a shade of blue,
While life continues on in every hue,
Because this is what I have chosen to hold on to,
Instead of opening my eyes to see.

I live in a disguise of illusions
When I hold on too tightly to it and have been,
When once again, change will come,
Undoing what I believe to be done,
Inviting me into new spaces with love.

As I reflect on the seasons of my life,
I see that it has all brought me here now.
Every high and low, every joy, every tear, and even every fear.
I speak up and look terror in the eye—
I give my reply, “I now understand why we have come to meet,
And while I cannot say it has been the most pleasant greet,
I have been made to realize that life truly is grains of sand,
Slowly passing through our hands, but I can now say,
They have each been my friend.
They were each formed by change, nothing will stay the same forever.
But in this understanding I will grow, and peace will once again show… so I thank you.”

And the terror replied,
“Now I may go.”

Dear Fear,
Why do you insist on your ways within me? You push your way in, crowding my mind, blocking out light and hope. Those old shadows of doubt and darkness I try so hard to push to the recesses of my brain, hidden from the joy I strive to maintain. Your ways are so sneaky and sudden that I can’t even see you creeping in.
You come in so many forms, life, money, children, health, and my future. So often the unknowns of these you use against me quickening my pulse, making me anxiously move about. Looking here and there, planning, preparing, consuming time and energy to overcome the fears of the unknowns. That’s it fear, that is where you get me, where you corner me – the unknowns. How do I conquer you and the way you move? I ask myself.
Then I look up, up towards the sky and I lift my face, and I smile. Joy and peace find their way back into my body, with a calming of my mind. My pulse slows and my anxieties fade away into a place of serenity. Dear God, I say, thank you that I do not need to fear the unknowns because you already know. So, you see fear, this letter to you is goodbye. I ask you again, why do you insist on your ways within me? But now it’s my turn to answer, you can’t, you have no power. The crowding becomes vacant. Light and hope move back in. The shadows of doubt and darkness disappear into confidence and brightness. Goodbye fear, God is here, you can’t sneak in anymore.

Signed,
Fearless

Oh fear,

You’ve been with me for a long time. First things first, let me thank you for the times you’ve saved me- letting my mom know I was hungry, keeping me away from poisonous spiders, dangerous heights, and sketchy situations. You can be a lifesaver… but you and I both know that you can also be a life sucker. In fact, I think it’s high time we had a chat about that.

You’ve held me back many times, even when I know you are often:

False

Evidence

Appearing

Real

And yet, how easily I can believe you to be true. How easily I can surrender my sanity in the face of your mirage. How quickly I can lose my authenticity in the face of your false ferocity. You know how to get under my skin. You know just how to hijack my best intentions.

Despite all this, I’m committed to making you my friend. I will continue to pray and meditate, so that I, like Scooby and the gang, can remove the terrifying mask you wear.

I will fight to see beneath your facade, gaining a glimpse into the lesson you wish to teach.

I will deliberately choose to breathe in life and love, removing the sting of venom in your bite.

I will remind both of us that you are my coach, not my boss.

Do you remember how you drove me to avoid letting people down? That palpable compulsion to say yes to every request anyone asked? I would do anything to please people with you at the wheel. More and more, I’m putting my hands at 10 & 2 on the helm. Time, practice, and my partner in crime led me to see your roots.

At your root was a little boy who feared that love had to be earned. A boy who saw love as a one-dimensional thing equivalent to a boat that never rocked. As a man, I have seen abundant evidence that true love remains in turbulent waters. In fact, genuine love can only bloom in the face of such obstacles. As a man, I know that love’s abundance means I don’t have to earn it. I know I am loved, and that truth has set me free. Free to say no when it’s what I mean. Free to save enough of that love for myself rather than spending every last penny for others. Free to walk my path and disregard sideways glances cast upon me. Free to be.

We also need to talk about how you inspire me to live with purpose and intention. I worry about losing the people I love in a tragic and unexpected fashion. Contemplating the fact that they could disappear is paralyzing. And yet, I want to meet you rather than push you away or let you consume me. I thank you for reminding me to live fully present with my loves while they’re here. I thank you for making me see in the wild works of nature how the cycle of birth and death is a beautiful dance, both elements necessary and magnificent. You remind me that I have indelible marks on my heart and soul made by the ones I love, and in that way, they will live in me as long as I draw breath. In this way, you have become fuel for me to make a more purposeful life.

So, fear, my multifaceted friend, let’s keep this conversation going. I will keep asking you who you really are, so we can make a habit of seeing each other eye to eye.

**My style score is a 72%, and the achiever in me hurts a little in accepting a “C.” But I have good reason for it. The thing bringing me down in that category is my use of repeated words/phrases at the start of sentences. I am a big believer in anaphora, as I see its power to drive home a message and bring my voice through the page. I really enjoyed using this tool though, and I see how I can create my own style rubric. I will have to continue to play around with it. Thanks for the opportunity to use this resource and to share my writing once again!**

I am afraid that every poem in my bones 
will become a sickle cell disease 
I cannot cure. 
An ocean of passion and fervency
I’ll keep clotted in my veins.
The kindest protest of this gift
would be if it kills me. 

I am afraid that every drop of ink I pour from my veins,
every page I dirty with my vengeful words 
and every warm honeysuckle string
I sow these sentences with 
will be a drug I fall apart for.

I am afraid that in leaving this pen on the table
I am abandoning my sword and shield.
surrendering my safety, my purpose,
to be conventionally put together
when I was born to be Starfire.
Cosmically unstable, prismatic incarnate. 

but when I speak,
you tell me I am so potent and forceful, 
that it hurts the shell of your ears. 
You spit in my face,
try to rebuild this box to put me in,
as if the blueprints on the floor
aren’t proof of the one since incinerated.  

I am made of dead stars and every shred of love that has come before me
and you expect me to be comprehensible?
I speak with my chest 
because it took tending to every seed
left rotting in my flesh
to erupt with these words
you now lick off my fingertips.

I am terrified that one day
these shadows will consume me.
And I will drown choking on my own blood,
and this star will snuff itself out,
and I will have no voice left to scream with,
and it will all be my fault.
and it will have been preventable. 
if I had just bled out these pages. 

So no.
I do not care that my presence
takes up so much space
that you are suffocating.
I do not care if my voice is so loud you go deaf
or that I am the last thing you ever hear.
I do not care if these pages go nowhere
and I am left with nothing but the physical 
remnants of myself
no I do not care if it is never enough.
It will never be enough.
to scare me away from this.  

(100% style score)

Fear, My Oldest Friend,
I need you, but not at this capacity. The original task assigned was to protect and guide me.
You used to lead with gentle nudges, but now you rule through crippling waves of fear. You’ve become the destroyer of dreams; the bringer of pain and disappointment.
You were wonderful once; glorious even, consistent, and exactly what I needed. Never letting me push too far, you were always there to support me. Excited to have fun, you’d jump at the chance to explore my limits throughout random adventures.
We did everything together. People referred to you as my imaginary friend, but you were so much more.
Do you remember when you helped me learn to ride a bike? Until I mastered my balance and control, you were persistent in coaxing me to wear my helmet and relentless when demanding I keep the training wheels intact.
The day finally arrived when dad removed those awful stabilizers, and mom readied herself to capture my first official take off. Nervous as I was, I couldn’t move, but you were steadfast and encouraging, instilling confidence to enable me to kick off the ground. And kick I did.
Fueled by confidence and renewed determination, it wasn’t long before I was at my top speed, pedaling my heart out. I felt you guiding me, reminding me to keep my focus, but you never tried to convince me to slow down.
I closed my eyes for only a moment as the warm breeze caressed my face just before whipping through my hair. Everything shifted as I felt myself floating through the air, embraced by the sky itself. I spent the day chasing that feeling, riding until the sun gave out, my legs not too far behind.
We made the perfect duo.
What happened?
Instead of training wheels, you’ve put me in chains.
I won’t lie; for a while I liked it, loved it even. It made me feel safe. But now, I want to feel more. I want to grow, spread my wings, and fly again.
I think you lost confidence in your abilities and, through fears of your own, began stifling me to stabilize your doubts.
It would be a lie to say I didn’t fear the complete loss of your confidence-inducing support. I long to hear your soft, encouraging whispers nudging me along – never afraid to let me fail while keeping me safe as I venture on. Instead, I am frozen by the foghorn warning you send reverberating through my body at the mere thought of reaching for something outside of this prison, posing as a safety net.
Regardless, I will begin my journey back to the skies with or without your support. I need to find myself again, without the restraints I’ve allowed you to implement.
This letter is my battle cry; a plea to convince you to push through your hesitations and join me. I sincerely hope you accept.
Sky’s the limit.
Me
100% style score

I’m Terrified of Going Back to Therapy

9/6/23
10:35 pm

I’m terrified of going back to therapy
Because what if I heal
The best parts of me
The open wounds that give birth to my creativity
What if my trauma is the origin of my art
Who am I without this pain
What would I do if it simply went away
And what would I write
If a therapist fixed me
And I no longer had nightmares and dreams
Of waking up screaming
Running for my life
Who would I be
When I’m no longer living in survival mode
A dystopian war zone
What if all my talent is tied to my trauma
And the wounds of my heart yield
The most beautiful art
What if I lose it all
And set aside the sorrow and anger
What sort of creativeness could be crafted
From contentedness and splendor
Is my only hope for creation
The result of destruction
Would I be talentless without the catastrophes around me
What would I do without the scars
And the bruises and marks
I cannot imagine my life without this pain
And this anger settled deep inside of me
And I can’t just set it aside
I feel like without it I might not survive
Because sometimes it’s the only thing that’s kept me alive
Petty and spite
My anger is a weapon I forge
Protecting me
And my sorrow is a haven
That I reside in
Because it’s all I’ve ever known
I don’t know who I am

Without these things
I’m a dog without a bone

I’m terrified of going back to therapy
Because what if the doctor judges me
For how I spend my time
Or how I’ve wasted away my life
And how long it’s taken me to feel alright
Would they criticize my healing time
Or tell me I need to go out more
Make some friends
Would they ridicule me
For my struggles
Or my sad miserable life
And my attempts at passing time
I can only imagine what they’d say
When I recap a week in my life
They’d probably feel bored out of their mind
But if I even began to delve into the trauma
Maybe they’d understand
That I’m simply healing and resting
For the first time
After being exhausted my whole life
I’m allowing myself to heal and rest on my terms

And what if all that is undone in a moment’s notice
Because I realize how utterly unhealed I still am

I’m terrified of going back to therapy
Because what if it doesn’t help me
What happens if all that money is spent
And I’m left the same as I was before I walked in
What would I do if I’m left unchanged and unaffected
By their attempts at remedying me
What if I’ve learned all there is to learn
And there’s simply no helping me
Would I have wasted hours
Talking about the deepest parts of me
Just to be left empty
With nothing to show for it
No participation trophy
What’s the end goal
Am I meant to walk out restored
Or perhaps a more broken version than before
Realizing the depths of the tragedy
That shaped me
I’m so worried
That their words won’t even faze me
Because I’ll be too far gone for saving
A useless attempt at a treatment plan

I’m terrified of going back to therapy
Because the child inside of me is still in mourning
And she’s not ready
For what needs to be unearthed
To get to the root of my trauma
She wants to keep it buried and plant over it
A patch of wildflowers
That’s roots will travel down
And devour the wound whole

The younger version of me
Is scared of admitting everything
And coming to terms with what it all means
And she still wants to hold onto some shred of naivety
A sliver of innocence left in me
Untainted and full of youth
My heart aches and cries
And screams and wails
For justice for her
That I know I could never serve
And I’m not sure therapy
Could heal the younger version of me
That needed the knowledge I have now
I don’t think talking could soothe the burning within me
Or the hole I felt carved into my chest
When I was only a child
That I couldn’t put a name to
And what do I do
Now that I can

I’m terrified of going back to therapy
Because I feel it’s exactly where I need to be

(77% Style Score)

Dear Present Moment,

I hope you end soon.

Right now, I’m staring at my phone, waiting for my blood sugar to go up. I thought this evening would improve after I parked my car and cried. I had to pull over on my drive home tonight due to a panic attack brought on by a call from my doctor.

The news from the call was net neutral. My doctor has more paperwork to fill out in another attempt for my insurance to approve my insulin pump. In the meantime, she has a free one she’s willing to give to me. But I have to call out sick from work and drive an hour each way to pick it up this week. Work is busy. Too busy for me to feel comfortable calling out sick. But I need my pump. And I need my job so I can have insurance that will deny my pump.

But insurance that can deny my pump is still better than no insurance at all.

My insurance at least covered the antibiotics to help my sinus infection go away. I don’t know if I’m correct, but I think the sinus infection was brought on because I dared to breathe the fresh air in Los Angeles after the rain this past week. I guess the air wasn’t clear enough from the fires that have been raging for the past month in my home.

I keep trying to enjoy you. People tell me you’re beautiful, that you’re to be enjoyed. But every time I try, something happens. I make plans to see a concert and I become an impatient then I’m selling that ticket from my itchy hospital bed.

I try to flirt with a boy I like. I dress up cute for the next time I’ll see him. I find out from a friend that he bailed because he went on a date with someone else.

Things will get better, I tell myself. They seem to for other people. I know that not everyone always enjoys you––that’s the nature of your existence. But it seems like other people think you can be fun and joyful. I haven’t found you to be that way.

I’ve wondered sometimes if I’m the problem in our relationship. I know I think of myself too much. I re-read this letter and realize how many sentences start with “I.” I hate that I start so many sentences with “I,” but I often don’t know how else to start them.

Maybe I can try starting sentences with “you.” You have brought me moments of happiness and those moments are savored. They’ve been photographed and taped to my wall. Most of them aren’t good. Faces are blown out, limbs are blurry, bodies are cut off. You look so beautiful in them.

You can be so lovely and so wonderful. However, that leads me to question if we’re in an abusive relationship. Most days you make me so unhappy. But there are moments of reprieve when you bring me so much joy, I can forgive you a hundred times over for all the pain I have felt in your presence.

My friend is coming to visit later this week. Will you please have mercy on this visit? Will you please be the gentle partner I know you’re capable of being? Will you not interfere with your sickness and destruction that you can so effortlessly bring?

My head keeps turning behind and ahead, desperate to learn your past lessons so that I may have a peaceful future. I find myself living in moments past and planning for moments to come. After all the pain of the past, I cannot bear to look you straight on.

If I raise my gaze to meet you, will you please be gentle with me in this moment? Can we sit together peacefully, maybe even hold hands? Please. Just give me a fucking break.

All the best,
Mel

ProWritingAid Style Score: 81%

Dear Eternal Dolor, 

Before you became the pain, you were the love, the light, the hope. 

After locking eyes, you brought light to the fade. 

Following a sealed kiss, you gave me warmth to my tremble. 

Behind your ‘I Love You’, you furnished my aspiration to an unknown future. Love of My Life. That’s what you were. That’s what you were deemed to be. 

Until you became what I feared, my unforeseen dolor.

Before your true colors manifested, you made me forever promises for which I sought. 

We envisioned a whole future, you and I. 

Me dressed in white, while you in a tie. 

Living in a home overseeing open spaces in summer heat. 

Watching offsprings run like wild horses, free and lively. 

Holding hands, wrinkled and fragile, as we’d take our final breaths to drift in our everlasting skies. 

It was all planned and set in stone until you became what I feared. The hit that broke the bone. 

In the end, you left your weight on my shoulders for me to tumble. 

Your silence struck my peace like boulders falling from high mountains. 

The distance you desired from me felt like miles of ocean. 

Casted words pierced my heart like push pins stabbing pictures on a wall you once admired.

Broken and weak. Scared and deficient. My fear overwhelmed me. 

You became what I feared.

The betrayal.

The loss.

The grief.

The lie.

My dear, eternal dolor. 

Hours, days, weeks, and months have passed. Wound is still fresh but stitched. 

Every setting we shared in sight are now memories. Memories forever are engraved to my mind, body, and soul.

No regrets. No time wasted. 

I loved you more than you loved me. 

I loved you more than when the sun rises from the east to greet the soil. 

I loved you more than witnessing acts of kindness among total strangers. 

I loved you more than myself. Was that not enough? 

Love for own self became the hope. 

Love for own self became fuel to a burning fire I did not know I carried. 

Love for own self took me out of dark paths that you were already heading towards. 

Love for own self gave me courage like when prey faces its predator. 

Face to face. Eye to eye. 

Love for own self rescued me from thy dolor. The feel of forever but not always present. 

My Eternal Dolor.  

Sincerely, 

Your True Love You Will Never Have Again

(100% Style Score)

Dear Life Inside of Me,
I know… I know…
I have to keep going 
This fight is for me
I must LIVE  
Yes it hurts 
Yes, I’m sad 
I know if I stop 
If I continue to stop 
I will continue to die 
So FEAR 
I’m calling you out 
You’ve hidden as my friend 
 behind the shadows 
You were killing me from within 
You tried to end my story 
introduced yourself as my protector 
I put myself at the mercy of your integrity
You created crisis after crisis 
Hamster wheel not stopping
then 
You took something from me 
Ground shaking, I couldn’t breathe 
Dying and fighting … dying and crying 
Darkness and death 
Here I am again? Howwwwwwww? 
Looking to the left 
Looking to the past 
This…. feels …..familiar …. 
Again… back here again ..
This makes no sense 
How..? What is it? 
Light …bulb…. FEAR 
Ahhhhhh
Goodbye you narcissist 
I will keep going 
I choose to live 
Forget my comfort 
Forget what was 
You kept me holding the past 
Afraid to LIVE
Long enough 
This feeling 
This feeling I’m feeling … 
It was you …
All along 
Not Rejection, Not Abandonment, Not Lack, YOU….
You’ve ruined enough for me 
ENOUGH….
Goodbye fear 
I will keep going 
You are no longer welcomed 
You die here 
And I 
I BEGAN HERE NOW AND FOREVERMORE …
BECAUSE I EXIST fear YOU ARE NO MORE!

(100 Style Score)

Dear Too Much,
I had to sit with you for a while.
Under my flesh you crawl, But I’m ready to brawl.
Too much trauma,
and
Too Much baggage
Or at least that is what I told myself.

Like a swirling vortex,
a tornado I cradle
I’ve held onto you like some sort of label.

Dear too much,
I had to sit with you a while,
just to figure you out.

Call by call, and talk by talk he fixes that.
Walk by walk I remember that,
If one that therapist can handle all “This” then someone else can too,
and maybe, just maybe, Too Much is actually just enough.

Dear Too Much,
You’re finally out of touch.

Dear Fear,

You’ve been lurking in the shadows, creeping into my thoughts like a cold, unseen presence. I thought I could outsmart you distract myself with distractions, tell myself I’d get to it tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes, does it?

You show up like an uninvited guest at every moment I shine. You whisper that I don’t deserve to be here, that I’m not doing this, that it’s only a matter of time before I get exposed. You’ve made me question my worth more than once, turning my achievements into shadows of doubt. You convinced me my success is nothing but a fluke, and I am nothing but a fraud waiting to be unmasked.

You’re the one who stands in the doorway, tempting me to stay in my comfort zone. You distract me with “just one more scroll” or “ one more episode.” You are always patient, like a slow poison, convincing me that there’s no need to rush. But deep down I feel your grip tightening, the hours slipping away, leaving me with nothing but guilt and missed opportunities.

But today- today, I’m taking my power back, you may be a shadow, but I’ve learned that shadows only exist because of light. I’m the light. And I’m done hiding from you.

I’ve stared you both down long enough. I know you’re not as powerful as you seem. You can whisper all you want, but I won’t be silenced. I’ll push past you, step by step, and I’ll make my way to the future I’ve been too afraid to claim. You might still show up, but I’m no longer letting you dictate my story.

Watch me. I’m doing this.

Sincerely, a future that’s no longer waiting.

Prowriting Style Score: 79
My Fears: Imposter Syndrome and Procrastination

I think about my fears when I’m crocheting,
Why is my anxiety here? It is dismaying!
With each breathe my heart beats faster,
What do I do – force fake laughter?
My brain shoots thoughts at lightning speed,
It grows louder and louder. Silence is a need.
I hate to dwell on my losses, but
Here is where my depression and anxiety crosses.
With the hook I stab the yarn,
On my heart, pain carves a scarred tarn.
I don’t know why this moment is full of stress;
I close my eyes and I pray to be blessed.
I no longer want to feel like my crochet hook,
Stuck in a web of knots, lost on what way I should’ve took.
So instead I clear my mind,
There’s a lot up here; so it might take some time.
I throw away my financial worries,
While my self doubt scurries.
I will no longer be prisoner to my thoughts,
I untangle a mind full of knots.
I rebuke every negative thought that come my way,
Because my Lord’s presence is here to stay.
I lift my eyes to the mountains,
Through faith I will possess an endless fountain.
I continue to weave my yarn,
Calmer now, because peace has been borne.

Style Score: 100%

You sit in the pit of my stomach, a rock, an unwelcome but also familiar knot of discomfort.

But how is it that you also arrange yourself in my mind, lacing my thoughts like a sickly smoke, intertwining and tainting? You are a haunting, a ghost no one invited, even so, I entertain you.

You seep into the cracks of me that aren’t otherwise filled, like a handful of slime squeezed in a fist; you overflow, you stick to my dry skin, not as moisture but a reminder of what I lack. Something small I forgot to do.

I tell myself to be stronger than you. I tell you to be quiet. A mantra, a prayer, a desperate plea that you ignore.

You and I seem to have something in common, at least. Neither of us will listen to me.

“Why would anyone listen to you?” You seem to ask.

I just want to be heard, to be appreciated, like everyone does. Heaviness weighs inside my chest. Sadness, I think, maybe despair.

You tap my shoulder in every happy, confident moment to steal something from me and I wonder, is this something that happens to everyone?

You whisper my name, “Heather,” as if we’re good friends, well-acquainted—and I suppose we are, you’ve known me my whole life—“You aren’t good enough; they’re going to pass.” You’ll never make it. Your dreams will never come true. Time is running out. You’re too old. No one cares what you have to say.”

I’ve believed you.

“Don’t sing. They will laugh at you.” You said, and I didn’t sing.

You have stolen my voice more than once. I allowed it. How much doubt have you sewn? How many dreams have you crushed? I’ve let you have your way, because I didn’t know better.

I did not know how to separate your lies from my truths and maybe I still don’t.

But at least now I know how to spot you. You and your clever manipulations. You, planting a seed of doubt and watering it whenever I permit. Maybe my fears will eventually be realized, but I can no longer allow you to stop me from trying.

Fear, you are a misuse of my imagination, and I mustn’t entertain you.

Even if you remain a lingering cloud on the horizon of my thoughts, I must endure the storm of my doubt. I must sing and write and share. I will.

Style score 84%

Dear Unknown,

I shiver when I hear your name. You are so cavalier towards my distress.

I distance myself from you to no avail; because you always seem to find me.

You are the culprit of my misery. Or you could be the reason for the joy that awaits me.

I lay awake all night, and I don’t want to face the day. You are there to greet me at sunrise.

I sit here stagnant, engulfed in fear.

I am reluctant to admit that you are my deepest fear, but I refuse to live my life imprisoned by you.

I vow from this day forward that I will face my fear of you, and live my life despite your unpredictable ways.

I realize who I am. I am kin to a royal family, and I hold special powers and authority.

Unknown, you must relinquish the grip you hold on me.

I will place demands on the Kingdom inside of me. To reveal my greatness, and see the world as an empty canvas, awaiting my commands.

Sincerely,

To my oldest friend, Rejection,

Unfortunately for me and fortunately for you, I have chosen a career which guarantees our longstanding acquaintance. As long as I chase this unpredictable dream, you will always have me at your mercy.

I would ask you to be gentle with me, though I know I’d only be kidding myself. I’ve become accustomed to your unyielding nature since I was ten. You’d think I’d be used to be it by now, and yet you would be wrong. No matter how many times it happens, no matter how many pep talks I give myself in the mirror, I am still gutted just as deeply when you sink your claws into my unassuming flesh.

You always know exactly when I am at my most vulnerable. You lie in wait until my resolve is sufficiently weakened and my self confidence eroded enough to let doubt seep in. It is then, in the moments when I most need a break, that you choose to check back in, remind me you’re still here, become reacquainted. Like an old friend too narcissistic to let us drift apart in peace.

I often lay awake at night wondering when you will pounce on me next. I dream of the life I wish to have, all the while tormented with the shadow lurking in the corner, reminding me that with every brave step I take, I am only barring myself to you more.

And yet I continue to choose this. I continue to go on auditions, to send out my manuscripts, to put myself out there despite the very real notion that I am only kidding myself. I choose this while knowing full well that I am stepping out into daylight and making myself a quick and easy target for you.

Why do I do it?

I am not some sort of masochist who lives for the thrill of the pain you inflict. No. On the contrary. I despise the bitter taste you leave in my mouth each time you unarm me with your apathy.

It’s not personal, they say. Rejection is a part of the process. A part of life.

Something I must get used to if I ever want to make it big.

But I cannot ignore the fact that it stings each time you try to tell me I am not special.

Not a good enough actress.

Not a good enough writer.

Not worthy enough for the position.

Not desperate enough to be the one who makes it.

Not. Enough.

It is your voice I hear when I think I am utterly unspecial.

But the trust is that the more time I spend around you, the less unpredictable your attacks become.

Your indifferent nature will always haunt me, but I strip away a bit of your power every time I choose to expose myself, to play my hand and bet on the dreams I chase.

Because I really believe one day, you will smile in the back of an ornate, stuffy room full of Hollywood’s finest artists. And you will watch as I ascend the steps and accept my award, uttering the words I have practiced in the shower with a shampoo bottle clutched in my hand, thanking the academy and God and my mom.

Maybe then, when our longstanding and complex relationship finally fulfills its purpose and I can say I actually made it, I will understand that there was nothing to be afraid of after all. I will remember that your influence fueled my frustration and determination to prove you wrong.

Until that fateful day, I will continue to look over my shoulder with caution, keenly aware you are always just at my heel. I will continue to be forced to sit in your less than comfortable presence, hoping against hope that it won’t always feel this pointless.

And in the moments when the fear becomes debilitating as I clutch my chest at night, your cold hands wrapped around my neck, preventing me from dreaming any longer, I will continue to breathe until you loosen your grip, reminding myself that you are here for a reason. That I must feel the fear and continue to chase this life I long for, anyway. Because it is only then that I can truly overcome you.

So yes, I am afraid of you. But no, I will not let that control how I choose to live the only life I’ll ever get.

I know this is not the end of you and me, and to that I can only say one thing: bring it on.

Until next time, old friend.

Yours truly,

A fool who dreams

Style Score: 100%

a journal on fear.
fear. a feeling most of us avoid. the thought of embracing it sounds insane. why would we want to sit in an uncomfortable feeling? it’s easier to run from the things that scare us than it is to be okay with them. is fear always a bad thing? I choose to believe it isn’t. that a healthy amount of fear provides the urgency to achieve the things on our mind. a healthy amount of fear welcomes growth, forces movement. rebukes stagnation. a healthy amount of fear can be lifechanging, when we allow it to knock on our comfort and push us into the person who conquers it.

there isn’t a life you could live where you avoid ever feeling fear. there is a life where you can spend a great amount of time running from it, though. I highly recommend you don’t run from fear. if nothing else, fear will teach you about yourself. remind you of your strength, remind you of how much you can handle before you break. remind you that your mind is tough, and the more you look fear in the eyes, the tougher you become. those who are resilient are resilient because they have faced their fear time and time again. even when they didn’t want to. especially when they didn’t want to. the resilient mind looks at fear as something to overcome. as our growth is typically on the other side of fear.

I can remember a lot of fearful moments in my life. of those fearful times, I grew from the majority of them. besides the time it was unnecessary fear like getting scared of a ghost or a noise I heard or something that holds no real value. however, looking at things that have intimidated me, things that have felt bigger than me- I have made myself equal to. I have leveled out the playing field that I had thought could not be leveled. and that’s the power of believing in yourself enough to overcome the difficult things.

two years ago, I lived in a constant state of fear. in an unhealthy way- a way in which I felt like the whole world was after me. that the world was a dangerous place, and I was fragile. that one small blow and I’d collapse under the sake of the world. I used my fragility as a scapegoat of growth. the person I could eventually become I was already intimidated by, as I knew the power I could possess, and that was scary. it seems counterintuitive to be intimidated by your own potential, but I feel like most people actually are. that’s why people don’t embrace change often. they like to stay the way they are. it requires less effort. and looking at the power they could one day hold is almost too much to handle. you deserve to reach your highest self, yet you have to get out of your own head.

too many people live under the imposter syndrome- always feeling like they aren’t doing enough. that they aren’t ever going to be as good as other people doing the same thing of them. that they aren’t actually on the way to achieving their goals. living under a box, feeling sheltered, shy. you can’t be shy when it comes to fear, overcoming it. you have to be relentless, pull out your strength, battle fear with the parts of yourself you’re willing to let go of. change, the embracing of fear, requires sacrifice. that’s what people are scared of. what they may have to let go of in order to reach the other side of their fear. there’s things and people, there’s a version of you, that you have to rid yourself of, and that’s hard to be okay with.

I remember the day I decided to embrace my fear, apply for my dream job. but it wasn’t the application that scared me. or even the interview necessarily. it was the way my life would look after taking the leap of faith on myself. knowing that nothing in my life would look the same after embracing this fear of mine. I knew everything would change: my environment, the people in my life, my lifestyle, all of my habits and routines. everything I knew was about to explode, disintegrate. and that’s what I feared most. but, one day, I realized I could sit in this hesitation for the rest of my life if I wasn’t careful. I realized that one day my fear could turn into regret. and for a lot of people, that is the pipeline. they fear something to the extent of running from it for so long that it transitions into regret. the “I should have” “I wish I would have” “what if” mentality that feels far more painful than the discomfort of fear. in life I think we ought to choose our discomfort. for me, I would rather feel fear long enough to grow from it. rather than the anxiety of running from it until I stumble into regret. as regret is a thing you cannot undo. but growth is something you can always capitalize off of. you can always switch directions, keep growing from your fear. but you can’t go back in time and do something because you chose not to do it out of fear. you have to sit with the decision you make in the way you go about fear. it will follow you.

I chased my fear long enough to be met with a version of myself I never would have dreamed of- one who is resilient mentally and physically. a version of myself that lives life fully, and loves each day. there was a big life on the other side of everything I feared. I’m happy with how I choose to regard fear.

fear will change you for better or for worse. and that’s entirely up to you. two years ago, it was changing me for the worst. it forced me to stay inside, sheltered me in, closed me off to the world. if you live in fear deep enough, you close yourself off to the opportunities of the universe. you close yourself off to a life that has so much to offer. fear can be paralyzing. debilitating. agonizing. you can live in a way where you succumb to it. where all of your actions align with the avoidance of the very thing you feel smaller than. and life will prove you are smaller than this thing. only because you are placing it above you.

but, if you so choose to allow your growth from fear, it can change you for the better. it can make your world seem bigger. open doors you used to hide behind. you’ll feel stronger, nothing is unachievable anymore. you’re capable of so much. once you prove that to yourself, you’ll nearly be unstoppable. life will feel like a challenge. in the best way.