A vessel of fears

I’m basically a vessel of fears.

Fear is a universal emotion that lurks in the background of our consciousness. It can take the form of an incurable illness, the specter of losing loved ones, or any type of anxieties. Today, I’m uncovering some of my own fears, not only as a means of navigating into my personal struggles but also in hope of offering solace to others who might have similar concerns, reminding them that they are not alone in their journey. I do of course want to run away, but at the end, I will have to confront them and fight my own battle.

---

I (self-awareness)

In the dead of night, I awoke abruptly, startled by a nightmarish specter that served as a harsh reminder of my existence within a surreal dreamscape. Trapped within the clutches of this haunting vision, I strained to cry out for my mom, but my voice was imprisoned within the confines of my constricted throat, ensnared by fear and spectral apparitions.

Seeking to make my voice heard, I found myself silently shouting within the chambers of my soul while upholding a façade of composure externally. Within this charade, I unraveled the complexities of adulthood, navigating its bewildering labyrinth of challenges and uncertainties. I tread cautiously in the shadow of this enigma, still unfamiliar with the formidable beast before me.

At one point, I loved my capacity for introspection, but as it evolved into an acute self-awareness, I found myself caught in a paradox. This heightened self-awareness left me in a state of indecision, a perplexing duality that made it challenging to align with the expectations of the world around me.

I’m scared of the uncertainty that plagues my own self-perception, a disquieting fear of my thoughts and feelings toward my own identity.

It’s like a fight against myself.

---

II (forgetfulness)

In the past, and now, I felt compelled to document an important event, acknowledging the frailty of my memory. However, people cautioned against placing unwavering trust in the words I penned long ago, suggesting that they might have been tinged with exaggeration. This dilemma raises a pertinent question: what should I place my faith in – the memory I have today in 2023, looking back on 2017 or 2010? My inclination veers away from that path. Rather than relying on potentially skewed recollections from my current vantage point, I find solace in the plain and unadorned words of the past, preserving the authenticity of that moment.

I have an intimate connection with my dreamscapes. Each time I venture into the realm of dreams, irrespective of their content, a profound sense of joy envelops me. The dream world serves as a sanctuary where I can reunite with individuals I’m unable to meet in waking life, a canvas where reminders are subtly etched into the tapestry of my mind.

Each morning, as I stir from slumber, I make an earnest attempt to recollect the dreams that had danced through my mind. However, more often than not, my frustration mounts as the delicate tendrils of those visions blur and fade away. It’s a fear I’ve long been acquainted with – my memory, fragile like that of a goldfish. The desire to capture every single detail of both my dreamscapes and reality is strong, but my fleeting attention span proves a formidable barrier to retaining those precious memories.

It’s a fear of being self-aware of the fleeting nature of memories.

---

III (time)

It was a significant evening when I took a stroll along the bustling street near my home. In that moment, a torrent of memories inundated my consciousness, vivid recollections of days long past that seemed to surge forth from the depths of my contemplative mind. This amble prompted me to grapple with the profound and eternal enigma of time, engrossing myself in contemplation of its elusive essence.

During this introspective journey, an agonizing sensation clenched my chest, as if an invisible hand had seized my heart. The air itself turned hot and oppressive, each breath becoming a laborious endeavor. It became increasingly apparent that I could no longer press forward on my path, compelling me to retrace my steps homeward.

Time, in that moment, felt like a relentless treadmill beneath my feet. The past and the future entwined in a disorienting manner. The ceaseless march of time evoked a sense of anxiety, akin to the feeling of running in place. I witnessed the past flitting by my side, while the future loomed ahead like an ominous mist, an apparition I couldn’t avoid or escape, leaving me trapped on the same treadmill.

The fear of time enveloped me. I recognized that the perception of time itself was mutable, its passage influenced by my ever-shifting mindset. Days could stretch into feeling like months, while months could whiz by like mere seconds. Moments I had cherished and lived with care were reduced to mere fleeting clips. Countless moments slip into oblivion with every passing second as time marches on, and my unreliable memory only accelerates this relentless process.

I couldn’t help but ponder, where had all my time gone?

---

IV (absurd reality)

After thinking too much to the point where my head hurts with the effort, I’ve reached a realization – reality is absolutely absurd. Being a cynic from a young age, I’ve often directed my inquiries inward, questioning the very nature of existence.

As the haunting question of “who am I” loomed in my mind, I realized it was already too late to turn back.

Hours turned into days as I dug deeper into searching answers, hoping to finally lay the question to rest. Yet, the more I probed, the more intricate the maze became. Countless branches of inquiries sprouted from that single “who am I,” leaving me trapped in an endless cycle of frustration and irritation. I circled around the question hundreds of times, always arriving at the same maddening conclusion: “I can’t solve it, no one can. Maybe I shouldn’t even be pondering this question. But if I shouldn’t, why does it exist?”

In a moment of exasperation, I shut my eyes tightly, muttering under my breath, “Forget it, forget it all. Let’s just play make-believe, shall we? Pretend those wretched questions never even crossed my mind. If they resurface, well, let them. I detest the relentless churn of my thoughts, but I must endeavor to embrace them. There’s no way I’m nursing grudges against myself once more. Yet, I have a sinking suspicion that the self-loathing will rear its ugly head again, for I remain ensnared in this relentless loop. It’s a temporary reprieve, nothing more.”

Any questions I posed to myself invariably spiraled into an endless loop, an unceasing cycle of introspection.

I will never understand the absurdity of the world, that’s for sure. How I will cope, that’s another story.

---

These fears are nicely woven together, each one feeding into the next, strengthening their force. It’s a complex web where addressing one fear inevitably ripples through to impact the others.

I am aware that to uncover my deepest fears will be a solitary voyage, one in which I must continually reinforce the notion of self-reliance. While I’ve been on the relentless pursuit of unclear answers and waging a silent battle against the intangible inner demons, the presence of my beloved companions has been my wellspring of fulfillment and contentment.

But yes, I’m doing well.