Facin' a Fear: The Pieces of Myself I Hate and Hide

Facin' a Fear: The Pieces of Myself I Hate and Hide

I'm sick and tired, literally nauseous and exhausted all the time, of being someone I'm not.

I've worked hard to be courageously myself out loud, but the deeper I go into mediation, the more I find buried inside. Triple Reiki attunements, my dream career of writing moving forward, the seasons changing, the death in the family...everything is ripping open my chest to expose a swollen (but still beating!) heart. Whenever I think I get closer to figuring it all out, something dawns on me that opens up an entire new world of possibilities, proving that the more we learn, the more we realize we don't know.

The thought overwhelms me. How could I possibly keep track of it all?

While I've been floating around this earth oblivious, thinking I'm living authentically and loving myself just fine, a mental breakdown yesterday had me choking out words I've always followed, but somehow never listened to. Although familiar, I heard these now-exploding thoughts for the first time, though their cruel accusations have been my social bible for years.So strange, to realize the voice inside your head isn't your friend, providing comfort but feeding hatred.

I'm sick of worrying. Sick of over-thinking, sick of pushing the claws of anxiety down my own throat, sick of being terrified of looking stupid for so long I don't believe in my own intelligence anymore.

I want a bolder life with a kinder consciousness. I want the courage to do anything I can dream up, and I want to trust that I am capable and worthy.

So this idea, it dawned on me this morning, while lying in bed too bummed to rise:

The parts of me I hide, I lock up out of fear. Whether this angst is over the opinions of others, or the hardship of accepting my character, I refuse to be the kind of person that will let it stunt me and crush me. The destructive thoughts in my head need to come out. I have to admit them to accept them, and I have to accept them to move past them. I am sick of not living as my true self, so I must take a leap of faith.

The stuff I feel the worst about, the stuff I hide the most:

I feel like a complete outcast and at this point I prefer it, because even the thought of talking to people exhausts me.

I have many friends I love dearly, but rather than having the energy to spend time with them, I punish myself with guilt for not keeping in touch.

I am a failure for not having my own family yet. I'm envious of my peers that are settling down, and yet no part of me is ready for the responsibility, adding to my shame.

Love drives me, but intimacy makes me cringe with gagging discomfort. I want to love myself, but when I try, my ego barks that I am a weak piece of shit that will be walked all over without a steadfast cloying attitude.

I hate existing. I hate that humans exist. I both adore and despise sentience. My skin is forever crawling from the reality.

I am so afraid of dying that trying to live forever is so often my only motivation for taking care of myself.

The chance of having a child or the chance to spend my life traveling dictates every decision I make. Black and white, obsessive, and not at all productive.

I hate myself for not knowing what I want in life. I hate myself for turning 28 next month and not having my shit figured out.

I feel chaotic and overwhelmed, all the time. If you ask me how I am and I don't respond with an exuberant Great! then I am actually just trying to hold it all together.

I HATE feeling. I hate the burn of emotion scorching through my veins and igniting under my fragile bones. I'm sensitive, and if I don't guard myself, I feel everything.

I put too much self-worth in the hands of the people who love me. I watch myself constantly seeking approval. If I can't make everyone happy, I feel worthless.

It made me sob to realize the voice in my head sounds explicitly like a drill sergeant. I am never quick enough, pretty enough, homely enough, smart enough, strong enough, perfect enough...


I am finally learning a state of mind that cherishes my own desires more than anyone's expectations, including my own.

I crave time to myself, but I loath being alone. I act out of anxiety, efficiency, and what-ifs, but I cherish joy, adventure, and courage. To truly love myself, I need only banish the worry that others might not approve of my choices, and value the good intentions and big-hearted actions I want to bring to the world. I am the only being that has to live with my life, so I better make it one I am proud of.

What troublesome thoughts do you let dictate your happiness? What could happen if you turned those fears into acceptance and love?