I'm afraid of

unvarnished fears without solutions

I’m afraid of spiders and creatures with too many legs.

I’m afraid of oceans and lakes and rivers that run too deep.

I‘m afraid of too-dark nights and long, unlit corridors.

I’m afraid of things that are big enough to hurt me. environments I can’t control.

I’m afraid of my brother, the only consistent man I’ve had in my life (until that time he abandoned me). I’m afraid he’s turning into our father, (who I don’t speak to). I’m afraid he’ll never realize the portrait he holds up to my face, that caricature, that child he still resents, is not me, it’s never been me. I’m afraid this is all we’ll ever be. I’m afraid of confronting him most of all. what if he leaves again.

I’m afraid I was never meant to have a best friend. after losing so many, all of them. I’m afraid of what that means, what kind of person that makes me.

I’m afraid I’ll never make peace with my body.

I’m afraid you won’t think I’m smart. that I’m not as smart as I think I am, and I’ll be found out.

I’m afraid I identify with my trauma too strongly. and if I allow myself to move beyond it, I won’t be special anymore.

I’m afraid of the unforgivable things I’ve done. I’m afraid if I told you what they are, you’d think I’m the worst sort of person, the kind you’d never have in your life. and what if I am? what if I’m just bad. what if I do it again.

I’m afraid of my own inner voice. how cruel it can be. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to shut it out. that this unendurable torture of having so many thoughts that don’t feel like my own, that I’d never say out loud but can’t stop thinking, is my punishment.

I’m afraid of running out of money. losing my job to AI. being poor, again.

I’m afraid I’ll regret the decision to not have my own children. I’m afraid of a barren loneliness 15 years from now that will entomb me like a desert. dry, cracked, hungry.

I’m afraid no one in my family really knows me, and never will.

I’m afraid of my anger. how quickly it breaks over me like wildfire, undiscerning and uncaring. I’m afraid of losing everyone I will ever love to its wicked maw.

I’m afraid the darkest part of me, this beautiful, gargantuan black snake backed into a corner, protecting the soft girl I used to be—is really and truly unlovable. too direct, too honest, too abrasive, too demanding, too loud, too mean, too fiery, too irritable, too feeling, too, too, too.

thank you for sitting with me.

<3 anieca