My worst fears aren’t born in the dark, they’re born and bred in my mind.
I suffer from this foolish tendency to get really caught up in a vortex of thoughts, emotions, and fears that I deliberately create. They get crammed, stuck, unable to be processed and if I try to capture them in a logical way, I often fail.
I somehow believe that if I allow myself to be really happy, something bad will happen. So I dim my light and sit comfortably in my uncomfortable zone, on a rug made out of a never-ending pattern of defeats.
You see, my grandma used to be my best friend. She knew me. She knew all my fears and all my worries, and she would always turn the situation in such a way that we would both laugh at how ridiculous my fears were.
She would let me have that Eureka! I got it. I don't have to be afraid of this anymore moment all by myself and for almost 23 years, my Saturdays were filled with her wisdom.
When I lost her, I was stripped of my protector, advisor and best friend. My sense of grasping reality with both hands vanished or it's somewhere hidden, I still don't know yet.
Rarely do I dream of her now, but somehow she always comes in my dreams when I need it the most... when I am engulfed in all sort of fears, stressing about things that won't matter a week from now on. Maybe it's her way of saying "You have nothing to be afraid of " or maybe it's just my brain's coping mechanism.
Nowadays, my fears are different. Bigger, scarier and right in front of my eyes. And as much as I want to be brave, fear always finds a way and still tricks me ever so often.
And it irks me to admit that my perception of reality is still distorted.
I’m afraid what I wrote is a cliché.
