The Amazing Adventures of a Socially Awkward Overthinker

The Power of Fear

The only sound I'm hearing is the sound of my own breathing. It's too loud. My heart is beating too strongly and I start to hear it echoing in my ears. My hands tremble. I long to say something, but stay silent, knowing my voice will shake. I'll sound weak -- unconvincing. It wouldn't be worth it, I'll mess it up. I never say the right words, it seems. Disappearing is my one wish, but it's a selfish one. Nothing I have ever gone through is worthy of wanting to vanish. In that moment, I'm drowning in guilt for even thinking that. There are people who've endured so much more than me.

I must be weak.

Pathetic, is a better word.

With such a forlorn expression staying on my face, I can feel the tears start to sting as I desperately hold them back. There's no sadness in my mind, but for some reason the tears keep coming. The voice screams at my thoughts to calm down, which only makes things worse.

I'm weak, it tells me.

Everyone else is so much stronger than I am, having gone through so much more painful things than I have, and I have the audacity to complain, to feel sorry for myself? I don't have it that bad. Why am I feeling like this? I don't have the right to.

I can feel the panic rise inside me. It's a painful rush of many emotions, scattering my thoughts. Logic is jumping out the window by now. Every single thought passing through my mind has become irrational.

You're annoying everyone. You're a nuisance. Don't say what you're about to say, they'll take it the wrong way, they'll never believe you. They probably don't even want to hear it, let alone talk to you about anything. It keeps going on until I either lose it, or another part of me yells back and makes it stop.

I'm not sure if anyone else does this...but either way, I've realized something.

I'm not pathetic. I'm not weak. I react in this way because I haven't gone through much. That's why I admire people who endure so much and still manage to smile because they're so much stronger than I am. They might not believe it, but they are.  They have a reason to feel upset, and there are times when they choose not to. That to me is just amazing.

I'm honestly not sure how to stop feeling so much anxiety about things, but I do know that I'm getting better. The anxiety attacks aren't lasting as long, and they're less frequent. I'm able to talk some sense into myself now.

But I can't stop now. I've still got a long way to go.

And if anyone reading this is going through something similar, don't be afraid to talk to me. I've found that talking things through, just letting it all out, helps so much. You're not rambling or bothering me, honestly. I actually like it when people open up to me. I prefer to listen

Fear is powerful. I realized that I'm not weak because I'm afraid a lot. It's the fear that's making me believe that I am. The other day, I saw myself through someone else's eyes. I noticed the good things about me. In that moment, it seemed like there was nothing wrong with me.

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Well, these last few chapters haven't been so humorous...they'll go back to that eventually. It'll take some time, I guess.