Fear

I've been trying to stay out of my head lately. Trying to stay in my life, stay in the moment, stay present. It's harder than it seems. Especially when you're me, and you have a compulsive need to analyze everything in your life down to the tiniest detail.

I got through the movie shoot and the exhibition with most of my brain and whatnot intact, and now I'm suffering from the post-haste hangover. My brain now has plenty of room for other thoughts than the most pressing ones, and boy is it going crazy. Crazy enough to forget stupid things, like printing something out then forgetting to take it off the printer. So here's a little tour of what my brain has cooked up.

Fear.

That's pretty much it.

While I sit in my cozy little house, I'm gripped with the fear that I'll never get it to the place I want, that I'll never paint the walls, never unpack the boxes, never arrange the furniture the way it should be. Never get organized. Never cook dinner. Never make it my own home. Never change the locks. Never do anything, and always be living in this half-hobo style, where most of my stuff is in a box, and I am constantly just shifting things from one place to another. The only solace I have is in the bathroom, where I've already given everything its place and begun a sort of routine there.

I'm afraid of school. I've recently begun to doubt whether I belong there at all. Am I even smart enough for grad school? The whole point of grad school is to be able to teach at some point, and I feel wholly inadequate for that. Sure, I teach my little intro courses, but if I were to actually apply for a position that required scholarly activity, I would be completely out of my element. I'm like the fake academic, with only the lexicon for school, but none of the actual knowledge. I can walk and talk like someone who knows what they're talking about, but if someone really knows what they're doing, I'm not sure I could keep up. Basically, I've been feeling stupid lately. Too stupid to be pursuing an advanced degree.

I'm a social idiot. More specifically, I am a spinster. I haven't found anyone who thinks I'm meaningful enough to make a priority or to stick with, and I have no idea why. I suddenly fear that I don't have enough self-awareness to ever be in a relationship that will amount to anything more than just hanging out or sex. Or a messed up compartmentalization of each. I've harped on this point countless times, but again, fear is a motherfucker. It hits you where it hurts. And this is probably the most painful weakness I have. I suppose I would be easy fodder for an enemy who knew this.

I'm getting old. As in actually getting old. My hands and feet crack like they didn't used to, and I have random little ailments that hail the dawn of a time when I have to be careful what I do to my body since it can't recover like it used to. My looks are at the point where they are going to start to fade, which makes the previous point all the more tragic. Additionally, I start to feel my own mortality, which didn't ever seem to be a big deal. Now it does, and it scares the shit out of me. What if I were to die and never have accomplished anything? What if I'm the proverbial lifetime college student who never does anything good? I don't want to die a professional student. And I don't like being the old student, either. Those people are annoying, with their 'back in the day' and 'when I was your age' comments. And now I'm at the age where I could be one of them. And it scares the shit out of me. Especially since I've never done anything really worthwhile or noteworthy.

I have no talent. What if I've been trying to be this artist, but in reality, no one had the heart or the courage to tell me I suck? What if I am really terrible? What if I fail at every artistic endeavor I attempt? What if I never do anything good? See previous point.

I want kids. I'm afraid I'm too old. I feel like that window may have closed already. I'm at an age where having kids is starting to be more difficult, and I don't have any prospective fathers on the horizons, making it seem all the more hopeless. More and more lately, I have thought about writing a letter to my mother saying: Dear Mom: Sorry I didn't give you grandkids. I wanted to, but couldn't find any willing participants. I wish I hadn't failed you on this one.

But seriously, I do want to have kids, and I'm getting more and more fearful that it is not going to happen. For some reason, it scares the fuck out of me.

I'm afraid that I drink too much. I'm fairly certain I'm not an alcoholic, but there is a fear that I will become one. There are few things that I feel I can turn to in any situation, but alcohol is one. When I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm alone, when I'm in a group. Alcohol gives the world a sheen that nothing else does. It numbs the pain, blurs the ugly. It also brightens the happy and perks up the banal. I like it. It makes me happy, if only for a while. And yes, I worry that I drink too much. I also worry that I make less than astute decisions after a few drinks. It's hard to imagine my life without it, even though I've been known to go for extended periods of time without it with no trouble. But when I come back to it, it's always like a strange homecoming, where I wonder why I ever left. It's like the friend that is always there, since my actual friends tend to let me down when I need them most. Not that it's their fault. I don't often speak up when things are really bad. It just feels too pathetic.

Which I suppose is another fear. I don't ever want to appear as if I need help. I don't know if it's all these years of being on my own that have created this idea, or where it comes from, but I hate asking for help. Especially on the emotional front. I usually have a couple of go-to friends for this kind of thing, but they often grow tired of me being such a downer very quickly, so I try to keep my whining to a minimum, even around people I trust.

I'm afraid that I'll never be able to overcome any of these issues. That I'll forever be mentally fucked up, that I'll never live up to what I expect of myself. Afraid that I'll never be completely happy, that I've set myself up for failure, that I'll never be able to measure up to the ruler I created. Afraid that no one (especially my parents) will ever be proud of me, proud of my accomplishments, proud to know me, proud to be in my life or my friend. Afraid that I will never matter to another human being as long as I live. I know this sounds ridiculous, but it is easy to feel inconsequential when there isn't any consistency to life or friendships.

I have friends who swear they will be there for me through anything, whether it's going out to meet people, or if there's some sort of emergency, or just picking up my mail while I'm out of town. But in truth, their lives are more important than mine. And I can't fault them for this. But I guess the point I am trying to make is that I am fumbling through this life alone, feeling my way with my bare hands, without anyone there to pick me up when I fall. Everyone else I know has someone right next to them, ready to make things right when they go wrong. I don't have that, and have never had that. I am perpetually alone. And it makes me afraid.