My Phobia

Everybody has their own fear of something. That something that could make our spine shiver, our knees shake, and our heat racing. I always though that my fear all these times is the fear of rats (musophobia). Yet, just recently, I realised that I have another thing that was way more serious…and needed a cure immediately.

I am now midway on my two-months final paper term before submission. For those who knew me before, especially who’ve been close to me in the last…6 years, I never finished my final paper. I started this two-months term with high spirits and multiple motivations from numerous stories of my life that happened in the last 6 months alone. This time, should be different. This time, must be better. This time, I must finish. Yet this time, right now at midway, I’m scared. And the story goes into another never ending circle. At that point last night, I realised that I am actually afraid for completing something so important and probably life changing.

And, no. It’s different from the ones before. Before this, I was just lazy, and actually fearless. I was never scared of how murky my future would be had I eventually completely abandon my school. I was completely heartless of how I would hurt the people close to me and expected me to finish for years. I was totally shameless, even knowing that a lot of my closest friends have achieved so much at the same age. Or as simply as, I was just lazy, and basking too much of my comfort zone, that I even avoided the smallest obstacle just so I would not lost that privilege.

As I said before, I am stepping into this with a different mentality as before. Many things that happened to me changed my mindset and I actually worked it all the way to the second chapter. I was psyched, and pumped.I didn’t mind all the extra work, because I know, the end result should be fulfilling and sweet. But then last night something struck me: I might fail. And I crumbled. I literally shrunk. I’m afraid of failure, and it shook me greatly that I even thinking about stopping before I finish this term.

I remembered that one of the things that motivated me before I started this new high spirited run was that I wanted myself to be free. To be invincible. From what? From a lot of things that kept me from succeeding in finishing anything. Yes, that’s true. I have never finished anything in my life. Ever. Sure, I wrote and published a book. But since that, nothing actually good happened in my life, and I’ve been letting myself drowning in this vicious vortex of insignificant drama. So why am I scared this time? No, not the fear of failure. It’s something more…dumb.

As stupid as it sounds… I’m scared of by actually doing this might change my life forever. I never finished anything that I started in my life, and this time, I know I would. And I’m on the verge of chickening out because I actually can’t imagine what my life would turn out to be after this. My obsession of being better feels great, I was excited over my head, and kept remembering a good friend’s advice was to feel good about myself -which I haven’t for a long time-, but I was never ready nor have I ever figured that the journey to achieve that, was not less terrifying than the probability of failure itself.

I spent the first two days of this long weekend in the most imaginable yet disgusting manner ever: lying on my bed, and doing nothing. It was actually common for a natural born sloth like me, but in my born again passion for a new life? It’s beyond stupid. But my mild depression spread into other areas. Financial, romance, social. I felt alone, I fear that everybody is going to leave me, I’m afraid that I won’t survive next week due to unemployment, and other crap that hit me.

This second, I’ve calmed down. That slight couple of days break down that was worth of a few pages researched and written made me realize another thing: I was too damn passive in my life, that I couldn’t handle something as exciting as a future achievement. My self-conscious was framed and built on countless dreams, that I never realized that eventually I grew up into nothing but a dreamer. The minute I realized that there should be hard work to go through that followed with a limitless pay off in the end, I couldn’t handle it.

The only reasonable thing to do now? Get back to work. And make sure that the next break down happens, I’ll be ready to handle it better.

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