I have struggled with fear my entire life. I’ve let it consume me. I’ve let it eat me alive. I’ve let it control me. I’m scared of my fear. I’m fearful of my fear. It’s redundancy that is another fear of mine, and there I go again.
I’m scared of doing the same thing over and over and over again, but I’m also scared of change. It doesn’t make sense, does it?
The thing is, fear is complex. I think everybody has their own definition of what fear is because each person might be afraid of a totally different thing than the person sitting next to them. For instance, I am afraid of people. I am. I am afraid that someone will hurt me – physically or even mentally. I was never beaten by my parents, but when I was in school, I was physically bullied alongside the harsh words those people would say to me. It’s stuck with me ever since, I guess. I don’t like to be touched at all by someone I don’t know, but especially men. I can honestly say that men terrify me.
This blog is an open book for me. I don’t go around telling random people that I don’t trust people to the point of a “no touching” rule. Especially about the “no touching” rule around men. Because of this fear, I am asexual. I have no desire in the world to ever be touched by anyone, ever.
I have a fear of the dark. I have a fear of driving at night. I have a fear of going to the store (or anywhere) alone. Ah, social anxiety. The thing that has followed me since childhood.
I have a fear of being left alone. I have a fear of talking to strangers. I have a lot of fears. Irrational fears and rational fears… I also have a fear of snakes. I consider that to be normal since a lot of people are also afraid of snakes.
My point is, why do I let these irrational fears consume me? I am constantly losing friends because I’m afraid to hang out with them or even afraid to communicate because I might say the wrong thing or that they’re mad at me or think I’m “crazy.” Ugh, I hate the word crazy. H A T E it.
I would define fear as dread, fear of the unknown, fear of the thing you know but are trying desperately to un-know, fear of someone else, and helplessness. Fear is that sense of anxiety when you realize your failure is impending if you don’t or can’t move quickly enough.
How do you define fear? I’m curious to know how different we are, the differences in fears.
Trigger warning… stay safe, friends.
We absolutely have to. Innocent people are dying because of mass shootings, more in the United States than anywhere else, because we’re simply not doing anything about it.
Are guns the issue? Yes. But do I believe mental health is more of the issue? Yes.
It’s so difficult to find a therapist and/or psychiatrist anywhere you go and if you do find one, they charge an arm and a leg.
It’s beyond time to fix this.
Get people the help they need.
Stop spreading the stigma surrounding mental health because YOU are making it worse.
YOU are making people feel ashamed of getting and asking for help.
Mental health is just as important as physical health, my friends. Normal, stable people don’t go around making plans to kill innocent people in public places where they should feel safe.
Those murderers are/were mentally ill.
The thing that gets me is that someone can be mentally ill, and people look down on them for that, which by the way is something they may not even be able to control. Then when that person asks for help, they get called crazy, they belong in the “looney bin” etc.
Someone is addicted to drugs, and they are looked down upon, and if they decide to detox, they get called crazy and a “crazy addict.”
The stigma that you’re spreading is making people feel like it is looked down upon to get help. They feel like they are worthless for going to a mental institution or going to therapy. They feel ashamed. They feel worthless. And that’s the opposite of how they should feel.
They should feel proud for asking for help. They should feel proud for starting to take control of their issue, whatever it may be.
People that don’t get the help they need turn to more extreme ways to deal with their pain; murder, in this instance.
Mental health is what we need to be talking about. As much as gun control sounds like the issue that needs to be addressed (and in some ways, it is), we have to focus on mental health as well.
The country as a whole is shoving it off to the side. Mental health only matters on certain days of the year, then the very next day nobody cares about it anymore.
Stop shoving it off to the side. Talk about mental health. Stop making people feel worthless for having to go to therapy. There’s nothing wrong with going to therapy!!
Be open. Share your story. You might be saving someone’s life. Stop condemning people for going to therapy.
That family member or friend that refuses to go to therapy? Talk with them. Don’t give up on them, and more importantly, do your best to keep an eye on them. They may be needing and wanting to ask for help, but they’re too ashamed to.
We have to do better, my friends.
Depression is real. Mental illness is real. Addiction is real (and is a disease, by the way).
If you’ve never experienced it, that’s great! But that doesn’t mean it’s not real or that you should talk down to people who battle with it daily.
To those in El Paso, TX and Dayton, OH. You’re in my thoughts and prayers tonight.
What’s it feel like to be free?
Think of the time you listened to the waves,
The ocean tucking you in, to drift off into a slumber that only the moon can see.
Think of the time you laid under the night sky filled with stars,
The fireflies lighting up the sky, filling the space around you with its own version of the starry night.
Think of the time you held your love’s hand,
Your vision clouded to anyone else around you because heart was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
Think of the time you screamed at the top of your lungs to your favorite song,
The noises around you drowned out from the passion.
Think of the time you read a book,
The world around you no longer existing.
The coordinates of the place that make you feel like you’re the only one in the world,
The feeling is clouded to reality,
That is what it feels like to be free.
Don’t lose that feeling,
Don’t lose that fire.
I bought a flower for you and before I could even plant it in the ground, it b l o o m e d. It’s pink, which was your favorite color.
I can’t wait to find a place to plant it. I’m going to take good care of it so that it can live for as long as possible. When it’s time is up, when it’s purpose has been fulfilled, I can let it go.
I have to constantly remind myself that it was your time to go. You fulfilled your purpose. Being a selfish human being, I feel as if a part of your purpose was to make me feel human, not like a diagnosis. Because that’s what you did for me. You made me feel human.
You were my best friend. You are my best friend. I hope you see the flower from heaven and watch it continue to bloom.
I hope this letter finds you well, and I am going to continue writing you letters. I am going to continue to stay on track to remain h u m a n, not a diagnosis.
When the part of you that dies with me rises up like the undead and grasps on to the souls of the martyred with it’s bloody claws, I’ll simply stand still and say, “I told you so.”
Bloodied face, fingernails chipped from holding on for so long, and yet you come back with vengeance, killing anyone who gets in your way.
Words that hurt, words that are etched in to the mind of the ones who held on for so long, yet had to leave for their own sanity.
Don’t forget the ones who made you, soul. For they are the ones who you are taking down in all of your vengeance.
When you’ve had enough, no one will be there, for we are the ones that are on the ground, taking our last breaths.
Sometimes the person you would take a bullet for is the one behind the trigger.
What is trust anymore?
You can’t trust even a best friend to stay faithful, yet the enemy remains true to destroying you. The monsters scare you consistently, yet a friend can’t go one day without telling the village the last time you didn’t eat.
What? What does it take to instill trust in each soul?
Trustworthiness, it being so rare in our days, is an archaic form of love. Our children cannot form a definition of the word, and it is a sad world we live in.
Do not conform, friends, to the world’s ways. Do not get lost in the ways of mortal man. Be true to your fellow man, be kind, be trustworthy.
Let the man next to you form a bond that none shall break, and be so kind that he shall never forget your face, nor your name.