Blog challenge, episode 2

Describe three legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears

1. Spiders
I know the exact time my dislike for spiders became a fear. I mean I can’t tell you the time and date, but I can tell the exact moment when it happened. It was way back in the glorious eighties, when I was around eight years old and was playing in my friend’s house. (there’s a whole another story about these friends, their house and how i was not supposed to play with them according to their mother, but that will have to wait) My friend had a few of those soft, plastic BIG (as big as my hand and then some) insect figures you can buy even today (i would ban them for causing irreplacable damage and emotional suffering to people but that’s just me), one of them was an ant I believe and there was a beetle of some sorts as well. And there was a black and white spider, one of those hairy legged ones and it still gives me the creeps to just think about it. It was fucking huge, I’m not joking, fucking monumental in size. And then I was climbing upstairs because I’d gone to the bathroom and my friend, she’s behind the staircase railing in the upper hall and she yells at me and I turn and she tosses the bloody spider at me and it just fucking slaps right in the middle of my face, like a fucking facehugger from Alien. I can still remember seeing it approaching me and it still makes me want to cry. And cry I did back then too, hysterically. For a good while too. And from there on I haven’t just disliked spiders, but fucking feared them.

2. Fear of not being able to write
I have no idea when this became a fear of mine. I suspect it was around the time when I started going to therapy and understood that writing is not only my escape from reality that can sometimes get a bit much for me, but it’s also a way for me to dissect my actual feelings and find solutions to my problems. I’ve had episodes in my life where I have been medicated out of my writing habit and that didn’t go too well. Even though I was feeling seemingly better and smoother thanks to the drug, it made me feel very uneasy and sort of … ready to burst at any minute because I wasn’t writing. I couldn’t, all of my senses were so numbed so I couldn’t find the words and couldn’t find the soul of it all, you know. I couldn’t find me under all that medication. This is why I’m getting into journaling little by little, just so that I can write regularly about me, and not process mself through fictional characters, because while that’s relieving and creative and I find immense joy in it, it still isn’t properly solving my shit, the way journaling is. I feel like I don’t, at the ripe age of 39, even know myself that deeply, because I’ve drowned myself under a thick layer of fictional characters. Yikes, I’m digressing again. So yea, fear of not being able to write is genuinelly a legitimate fear of mine.

3. Fear of going deaf
Throughout my teenage years that were stormy and all of it a big turmoil, much like it is for any teenager out there, I found a lot of comfort in music. It was literally U2’s Achtung Baby and Simple Minds’ Real Life that kept me hanging on for so many days and so many nights. And they stuck with me, through the onset of my bipolar disorder, through years of trying to find what it was that I want to do in life and ever until these days, where I’m still as lost about what my place and purpose in this life is, music is the one constant that anchors me to real life and pulls me away from my existential crisis. And so fear of not being able to hear, to me, is almost crippling. I know there are a lot of people who are deaf and live perfectly good lives and I’m in no way implying that their lives somehow lack anything, it’s just that to me, I have no problem with literally any of the other aspects of being deaf, but the thought of not hearing music like I have heard it, is terrifying. So that’s the thirrd one of my fears.

And thus ends the second episode of a blog challenge I took up.

Leave a Reply