Tag Archives: fear

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It was never a surrender to ones own deviance that unnerved me. In fact, when it’s done correctly – openly and genuinely – I tend to find it quite endearing.

It was never those beautiful, chaotic souls that embrace thier animal instincts that worried me. Rather, most of the time it would make me swoon.

After all, a wolf will display it’s teeth before it springs forth and sinks them into your throat. And a spider will raise unto it’s haunches and let it’s venom slowly drip before it spills it into your bloodstream.
These are the warnings, and those of us who choose to ignore them duly deserve the latter of each scenario.
But what’s so interesting about complexity of the human mind is although we know very well what happens next…….. there are still those few of us who crave it.

Some of us desperately.

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Barophobia.
A fear of gravity. A fear of all types of sudden plummet. All of which are equally terrifying:  Falling off a building,
Falling down stairs,
Falling in love,
Falling for malicious lies.
I am weighed by the tremendous vertigo of such things. So much so that I clench my fists til they ache as I walk around town – as if I’m holding onto something – as if I’m constantly awaiting a sudden drop. Like, if my foot slips and I fall into traffic, or if I get kissed by a pretty girl and I fall head over heels. 
Because each and every pit has a bottom. And I assure you that you won’t look or feel the same when you suddenly reach it as you did when you fell in.

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Todays heaviness bore down on me from the very start. My mind was not built to cope with the type of punishments that I put it through and days like this worry me because I can feel the very last of my sensibilities giving way to much more devastating things.
Madness conveys its affections towards me,and whatever distasteful creature lurks in the dark attic of a mans soul, begins to figet in its chamber – behind my eyes.
These anxieties do not speak a single word and yet have the ability to convince all of my common sense of its inferiority and redundancy and so all logic leaves on its own accord, and what’s left is what you’d see of me on days like today; lowly, writhing scraps of a man.
But how could one talk down such a frenzy that knows nothing of any type of vernacular? Consisting only of a mouth that gnaws and hands that only rip and claw.

Living with a panic disorder is to continually be killed again and again and each time is different than the others. What then happens – after years of terrible exposure to this – is a pathetic type of survivalism. A negative neuroplasticity. Faulty wiring. We grow accustomed to the fear and begin to subconsciously nurture and enable it. It sits within our gut like a wayward son that we care for through some unfortunate instinct and a moment without this mania is even more terrifying than the initial dismay. A days worth of silence is far too eerie. ….like that strange orange hue the sky takes on just before the tempest.
Something sinister is lurking just past the horizon. We know. So we learn to nurse this disgusting companion.

All of this builds an incredible amount of character – constantly fighting for your life.  But a deep sorrow comes from the triviality of it all. Awareness that the battles we wage regularly, however endless, are not true. And the only soldier is the now frail voice of reason laying war-torn in the foxholes of a mundane daily routine. There is no honor in a war that no one knows of.

Only through some faulty destiny do we survive. Strong enough to endure this consistent despair in humble silence, yet not enough to rid ourselves of these useless endeavors.

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Monday.
The clouds have apparently grown suspicious of our actions down below and sunk down into my city. They peer into our empty streets and into our bodies, in our mouths and lungs, and spread themselves through town as if an obscene, thin cotton.  This sky-sludge has no business down here. In fact,  I doubt it could even bare life below and the curse of discovering its own mortality. No, it should stay put with the idiocy and ignorance above, far from this city and the terrible lights illuminating the far worse.

It makes me think of the fear.  Not to say that the fog instills fear in me, but that I suddenly fail to see a difference between what haunts me and the dark sky thats been dragged down here to surround me. They both start as a light, inevitable nusense but gradually tend to seep into every corner of the world, including those hardly yet discovered, and can grow so black and omnipresent that the world as you may have known it (even just a day ago) is hardly recognizable and scarcely perceivable.

Ah, so thats it. This thick paste of the atmosphere has come to mirror the pitch black of that which is happening inside of me. It’s come to crush me. Stepping out in this dark city tonight feels as if the god’s are shoveling the entire sky down the back of my throat. It’s the same feeling I had in my dream, watching K fall off the balcony, and hearing my dads voice outside my bedroom door saying “im sorry”. Its like the fog is not enough and I’m suffocating on the entire universe and all I can hear is a muffled voice from outside,
“Christian, I’m sorry. Alright?
…..Can you hear me?”

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