Fear is a hard thing for me to write about. Not because of of a fear of talking about fear but because I have so many fears! I am secretly full of anxiety everyday but I try my best to mask it. Fake it til you make it right? My worst fears center around the meaning of my life and the impact of my death. Two sides of the same coin really. I have written about this before. I think about death a lot, just about everyday. I worry I will die soon and I worry my life means nothing.
I’m afraid that if I died my girlfriend would be left alone and depressed. I’m afraid she would never recover from the loss of me. She keeps to herself a lot and doesn’t reveal her feelings often. I’m afraid if she lost me she wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. I’m afraid for her emotionally on so many levels. She needs me just as much as I need her. We take care of each other and I have tasked myself with being the keeper of her secrets. I know her better than anyone and I fear that if I died I would be taking a part of her with me.
I’m afraid that if I died my family would fall apart too. I worry about all of them so much and I worry that if I wasn’t here there would be no one left to worry. I also do my best to help them out whenever I can. I’m there for them emotionally and financially, although they haven’t needed me as much recently. I’m still here though and I worry about what would happen to them if they needed me and I wasn’t here. I also try hard to be the peace keeper. In the past this has often backfired on me but in the end we almost always work it out. I try to act as a go between and talk to all parties involved and help them understand that we are family and we need each other.
I guess also afraid if I died I’d miss out on their lives. I’m also afraid to mourn anyone. I don’t want to miss out on my niece and nephew growing up. I don’t want to miss my little sisters wedding. I don’t even want to miss my parents funerals. I am afraid of them dying too but I want to be there for my siblings when it happens. I want to be there to see my soon-to-be wife grow old. I want to be there to experience all the joys of life in my old age.
I also fear of finding out there was no point in me being on this earth at all. I’m afraid the I am the epitome of insignificance. What if I do die and no one really cares? What if I die and it’s like I was never even here. I want to have some impact on the world. I want my family to remember me but I also hope that I have some affect of the world outside of my small circle of friends and family. Guess that is why I’m here and why one day I’d like to write a book. I want shout something to the world before I’m gone. My hope is someone will hear me, and maybe that person will even begin to think about the way they live and make a change. Maybe they will pass on my message and maybe a few people will change. That’s my hope, but my fear is I am talking to a void and my life will have meant nothing.
And finally, I am afraid that my life actually does mean something. This clearly contradicts my fear of being insignificant but we all know the human mind often makes no sense at all. The saying “be careful what you wish for” comes to mind a lot. What if what I think I want isn’t what I want at all? The drive to be something in this world is incredibly pressuring. If I mean something then I have to always be aware of what I say and do. My actions will live on after I am gone and I would hate to be remembered as anything less than good. If I mean something than I have to try hard everyday. If I mean something then I have to be something.
I deal with these fears everyday. I do my best to accept and overcome them. Worrying about things I cannot change doesn’t help me at all. I have to just do my best to be good and make the best of the time I have with my loved ones. I have to try to be true to myself and make an impact wherever and whenever I can. Maybe I will get to live the life I want. A life of happiness and meaning. Or maybe I won’t but I do think I have done enough good and seen enough joy that I could die happy.
Prompt via the Daily Post’s Writing 101 course.