Actually, I'm TerrifiedMy fear is crippling. It holds me captive, but the cage door is open. I am just too damn afraid of what's outside of it. So I remain inside it, surrounded by still more fear. What I fear may never come to fruition, and from past experience, most of my fears rarely do. Regardless, I continue to waste precious energy obsessing, worrying, fretting. Fearing.
It stems from a need to protect myself. If I predict every possible outcome, every potential way that I can be hurt, then I can be prepared for it. I can somehow prevent it, or at best, soften the blow. Of course this is foolish thinking. Once it begins, it's not really thinking at all. I'm simply running on the instinct to preserve what's remaining of me at all costs. It renders me paranoid and untrusting. I am not proud of the places my fear takes me, or what it reduces me to.
Someday, I will stop worrying that every person that comes into my life intends to hurt me. Someday, I will learn to trust without fear. Someday, I will put my crystal ball away and cease to predict the hurts that may or may not come.
But I fear that's a long way off.