This is for those who are bored, for those curious, for those who care, and for those who don’t.
I wish people knew I was afraid of them. Now, why would I want that? They could take advantage of my fears. I’m afraid this writing may come off as if I think the world revolves around me.” Let’s talk about your fears like others aren’t scared.” Well, if we’re all afraid, let’s say I do a bad job of hiding mine, at least right now.
I am afraid of everything and everyone. My top three fears are losing my mother, dying, and not making it in life. I’m not entirely sure what “making it in life” even means to me, but for the longest time it has meant living a healthy, wealthy, and stylistically enriched life. Lately, I guess you can add finding love to that list.
I’m also anxious about flying, driving on the highway, dogs in the park when I’m running, even looking over at the person next to me in traffic. What if they don’t like me and just pull out a gun and shoot me?
In my earliest memories, back in elementary school, I was scared of school, math, teachers, everything. School gave me a sick feeling. I remember one summer when my mom drove past my elementary school and I was in the car with her. School wasn’t even in session, but just passing the building made my stomach drop.
After elementary school, I spent two years in boarding school. I didn’t have much time to think about fears or be afraid then.
As a freshman in high school, I was scared again. My middle school environment had been much kinder, and high school was rough. I was bullied. I hated school. In 10th grade, I isolated myself and focused on academics, even though I was still terrible at math. In 11th grade, I was “cool.” By 12th grade, I felt too cool for my environment. I started college at 16, right after high school.
I can confidently say that the last two years of high school and my first two years of college were the least afraid I’ve ever been, or maybe the time when other, more favorable emotions covered my fears. I was raised in the church and was always a “good kid,” but during that time I wasn’t afraid to push the buttons of tough guys or situations that should have scared me. I didn’t believe anyone or anywhere was truly “gangster.” That was my Killer Whale era. I felt larger than life.
My fears didn’t disappear. They were drowned out by confidence, or whatever you want to call it. I loved how awesome I felt so much that I didn’t have time to fear or address any underlying issues… I don’t know…
Fast forward to now. A former coworker once told me, “Social anxiety is scared of you.” I felt comfortable enough with her to explain that I’m actually always nervous, and that my erratic or seemingly charismatic lack of care is just compensation for my constant fear of people and places.
I promise you, I’m an introvert. Being around people, even people I’m comfortable with, drains me. I’ve only met two people in my life who didn’t exhaust me. One of them left, and they were only around briefly. The other is my OG, Baby.
I see anxiety and fear as twins. My workstation at the office makes me anxious. Interaction with my coworkers makes me anxious. My manager makes me anxious. My job makes me anxious. A story as old as time: I never feel like I fit in. I’m always scared I’ll be “exposed.” Maybe that’s why I find comfort in phrases like “we ball,” “let the ballers ball,” or “just living.” Even church, where I know people love me, still gives me anxiety.
I’m also afraid for the people I love. I fear losing them. I fear they don’t see me the way I want them to. I fear they’re not really okay with me.
Lately, I’m afraid people don’t understand me. I worry that maybe I don’t understand them either. I’m afraid that the more I try to explain who I am, the less favorably I’m perceived. To be clear, this isn’t about people-pleasing. I only feel this way about people I’m drawn to. It’s very few people, and I don’t know why I’m drawn to them. I don’t care too much about how I’m perceived by the outside world as long as it doesn’t affect me. In those cases, I just think it’s unfortunate. They may make me anxious, but I’m not afraid of them as long as I don’t have to engage.
The more people in a room, the less I speak. I fear the masses. I fear that my political opinions differ from the majority in the communities I’m part of. I fear that most times I don’t have an opinion.
Then there’s the worry that comes with fear. I worry about my future. I worry about finding love. That one’s new. I worry about making a lot of money. That one’s old. I worry that no one really cares. Damn.
I’m still anxious about everything. If I know I’m going to meet someone, I mentally map out every possible question they might ask and rehearse my answers in advance.
I’m afraid I’ve been too optimistic about the world. People don’t care, or they don’t care for long. I find myself wondering whether people who are no longer around ever think about me. I still think about them. Still, I can’t help but care and love, even when it isn’t returned.
An irony is that the one state I’m most certain I don’t want, death, is the only state without fear. A dead man fears nothing. Life is funny like that.
The world tells you to “man up” and stop being a puss.
Scripture says:
“Do not be afraid, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9
