The only thing we have to fear is fear itself

Over the past couple of years, I developed a really big fear. Fear – that’s a strong word, I think. It’s not the same as just being scared of something. It’s a genuine, profound feeling about something that people don’t like and are afraid of. Usually, when I ask people what their biggest fear is, I get surface answers like heights, spiders and snakes. Sure, I believe that these fears can be warranted. Even though I’m not scared of these things (much), I’m not about to disregard other people’s fears, no matter how silly we may perceive them to be (like clowns and balloons). Usually when I ask someone what their biggest fear is, I want to know what they’re REALLY afraid of.

For the people that really know me, they would know that my biggest fear is death. Dying young, dying before I’m ready and dying a slow, horrible death scares the life out of me (ha-ha). Whenever I hear people talk about phobias and stuff, they usually say “confront your fear!” but the problem is: I can’t. Confronting my fear means dying, I guess. I guess I could come to terms with it, accept that I’ll die eventually – everyone does – but at such a young age, it’s hard to. I can only hope that I die old, really old.

I decided to write this after a late night conversation with a friend. A mutual friend of ours died suddenly. She was more of an acquaintance for me at the time. I met her when I was in high school and we were friends for a couple years. Eventually, we lost touch with each other. She was so young (mid-20’s) and just had a baby girl. She died in her sleep. Spooky.

It’s strange. During the day, it doesn’t cross my mind. I don’t have this huge fear of getting in my car and driving among the millions of crazy drivers in Houston, anticipating a terrible accident. I don’t freak out while swimming anticipating that I’ll drown. Usually, the only time my fear strikes me is late at night, when I’m in bed and can’t sleep.

The human mind can be a scary thing. At night, my mind wanders. I think about many, MANY different things. Most of the inspiration and ideas I get for writing is when I’m laying in bed late at night. Unfortunately, it’s also when I think about death. Do I want to be buried? Do I want to be cremated? What will it like to be in a satin-lined coffin? Will the bugs be able to get in and chew on me? Who will come to my funeral? Will I know that I’m dead?

Really, my biggest fear about dying is that I will cease to exist. I won’t be the first to admit it and I may stand alone on this right now, but I can hardly stand the thought of the world moving on without me. I’m not a huge history buff – I know bits and pieces about different times – some more than others. But what I’m REALLY interested in is what the world will be like in the future. I guess there’s something exciting about the unknown. It allows our minds to be imaginative. And sadly, most of us won’t be around after 50-60 years to see what people have come up with.

So…what’s YOUR biggest fear?