I find myself overwhelmed with fear. I am terrified of opening my heart to love, yet I dread the emptiness that comes from not allowing myself to feel it. The thought of hiding my true self fills me with anxiety; I worry that I will appear weak and cowardly, but deep down, I also fear that I won't feel beautiful or worthy of affection.

The prospect of forming a friendship makes my heart race; I long for connection, but the fear that they might leave me haunts me. On the other hand, the silence of loneliness is equally frightening, and I feel trapped in this cycle of apprehension.

Every decision feels monumental. I'm paralyzed by the thought of saying no, worrying it will hurt someone while saying yes fills me with dread of commitments and expectations. I fear crying, believing it may show my vulnerability and weakness, yet I also worry that not crying will come across as heartless and detached.

Living itself feels like a daunting journey, filled with uncertainties that loom large in my mind, while the idea of death leaves me feeling more unsettled. I constantly grapple with how others perceive me; I fear their judgment and scrutiny, and I'm anxious about the possibility that I might go unnoticed, slipping through the cracks of life like a penny through a sewage drain.

Letting people into my life feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, the allure of connection pulling me closer, but the fear of being let down pushing me back. I wrestle with the impulse to express my emotions, terrified of being labeled as dramatic, yet I worry that silence will lead to being perceived as cold and unfeeling. This inner turmoil leaves me in a constant state of unease, struggling to find a path forward.

The fear is always there. And I fear that fear.