There was a time, a few months ago, when i made a list of all of the things I was afraid of. It went something like this:
Razors, sharp objects, thumbtacks, lighters, snow(occasionally), scissors, bruises, bite marks, bandages around my neck, open wounds, scratches, hot glue, and my own hands and arms.
And really, I would still say that I am, by and large, afraid of these things, but on a deeper and more analytical level, I know that that's not true. I know because I have experiences irrational fear of inanimate objects before; I know phobias, and while some of these (such as razors) might have been very real in my past, I do not think they apply to me now.
Instead, I think it may be more accurate to say that I am scared of myself.
One big moment of realization for me was in Bri's car. Bri has two lighters in her car. A few months before, I had been at her house, and I had seen a lighter sitting in a remote area--I was afraid, deathly afraid, and actually asked her to hide it for me. I could have grabbed it when no one was looking and done something bad, and I had been terrified of my own lack of self control and of the thoughts swirling about in my head.
In Bri's car a few months later, i saw two lighters in her car. At first I had a twang of nervousness, but it quickly passed; the lighters did not scare me. It was not because the lighters were any different than usual lighters. It was because Bri was right there in the car with me; there was absolutely no way I could get away with anything crazy, and with her right by my, I didn't have any dark thoughts.
So what I am actually afraid of is myself. I am scared of my lack of self control, and I am scared of what i will do if given the opportunity. I am still awful at breaking habits. I do not seem to be getting much better.
On one hand, this is a good realization because it makes me realize that I am not a crazy person who is afraid of everything. It seemed as if I was able to somehow trigger myself with any ordinary object, and it felt as if I was practically afraid of everything. On the other hand, this makes it so much worse. I cannot escape from this fear. I cannot distance myself from it. Unlike lighters, I cannot have people hide them from me. Unlike my hands and arms, I cannot cover them with cloth. I can do nothing to save myself from me; I am always in the danger zone, and that is so, so terrifying.
And isn't it just typical of me, being afraid of myself. That is such an egotistical thing to do. It is always about me, huh?
But then, at the very least, I am getting help now. Soon I won't even have to fear myself.
(but can one live without an all encompassing fear to live with? I don't think I've ever known a life like that.)
Life is good.
Razors, sharp objects, thumbtacks, lighters, snow(occasionally), scissors, bruises, bite marks, bandages around my neck, open wounds, scratches, hot glue, and my own hands and arms.
And really, I would still say that I am, by and large, afraid of these things, but on a deeper and more analytical level, I know that that's not true. I know because I have experiences irrational fear of inanimate objects before; I know phobias, and while some of these (such as razors) might have been very real in my past, I do not think they apply to me now.
Instead, I think it may be more accurate to say that I am scared of myself.
One big moment of realization for me was in Bri's car. Bri has two lighters in her car. A few months before, I had been at her house, and I had seen a lighter sitting in a remote area--I was afraid, deathly afraid, and actually asked her to hide it for me. I could have grabbed it when no one was looking and done something bad, and I had been terrified of my own lack of self control and of the thoughts swirling about in my head.
In Bri's car a few months later, i saw two lighters in her car. At first I had a twang of nervousness, but it quickly passed; the lighters did not scare me. It was not because the lighters were any different than usual lighters. It was because Bri was right there in the car with me; there was absolutely no way I could get away with anything crazy, and with her right by my, I didn't have any dark thoughts.
So what I am actually afraid of is myself. I am scared of my lack of self control, and I am scared of what i will do if given the opportunity. I am still awful at breaking habits. I do not seem to be getting much better.
On one hand, this is a good realization because it makes me realize that I am not a crazy person who is afraid of everything. It seemed as if I was able to somehow trigger myself with any ordinary object, and it felt as if I was practically afraid of everything. On the other hand, this makes it so much worse. I cannot escape from this fear. I cannot distance myself from it. Unlike lighters, I cannot have people hide them from me. Unlike my hands and arms, I cannot cover them with cloth. I can do nothing to save myself from me; I am always in the danger zone, and that is so, so terrifying.
And isn't it just typical of me, being afraid of myself. That is such an egotistical thing to do. It is always about me, huh?
But then, at the very least, I am getting help now. Soon I won't even have to fear myself.
(but can one live without an all encompassing fear to live with? I don't think I've ever known a life like that.)
Life is good.
No comments:
Post a Comment