Screaming Casually into the Void: Episode 1 - Fears

The Unfiltered, Unedited, and Unrevised Mutterings from an Estranged Woman

Welcome to the first episode of my “Screaming Casually into the Void” series, where I ramble and mumble and maybe connect with others willing to read this. Here I’ll talk about human things such as emotions, ideologies, what I ate for breakfast, etcetera. Tangible things that may or may not be relatable to everyone, but are definitely a part of me.

On this first episode, I figured I should start off with a bang, right? It feels a little sink-or-swim, and what better place to start than what I’m afraid of. I’ll probably expound on it way too much, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?

So nestle in, grab some tea or coffee, and welcome to my corner of the void.

Let’s talk fears. What scares you the most? Personally, I have never been afraid of the cliché phobias. Spiders, snakes, blood, or really anything natural has never scared me or made me feel any sort of negative emotion. I honestly feel pity towards some of the creatures, like spiders. People hate them so much they have become the villains for humankind. Spiders just have a few too many legs and a strange eating habit. Totally misunderstood, and they are slaughtered every day for it because of fear. I know, that’s a bit of a dramatic stance, but imagine being killed just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time… Well, I guess if you are part of the American audience reading this, that’s a little easier to picture.

As for horror movies, haunted houses, or things of that nature, those never scared me either. I’ve seen people genuinely get terrified from these productions, and I never really understood why. For me, my brain knows it’s all fake and there’s no real danger here. But maybe that’s because I was exposed to it at such a young age. I remember when I was six, I watched the first Saw movie for the first time. Sure, it scared me then, I was six, but now I really just appreciate the artistry with anything in the horror genre. And maybe that’s a little messed up, but hey, that’s just how it happened.

But what do these “normal” phobias all have in common? They all originate from a fear of death, which is why they don’t scare me. I do not fear death. I fear not living.

If you are confused, let me explain. As a kid, I imagined so much more for myself. I was the hero to my own story like so many of the books I read, and I was going to be significant in this wide world. But that’s just not reality. Instead I grew up to be a side character in my own story. And barely a background character in everyone else’s.

And if I were to die tomorrow, without warning, could I say I lived my somewhat insignificant life to its fullest? Right now, that answer is no. This year, I’ll be turning thirty, a milestone to some, and I have nothing to show for it. I work a job I hate, my living situation feels like jail (don’t worry I am mentality and physically safe), and it feels like I don’t understand how to live. I am stuck in my own bubble of comfort, afraid to take a leap.

And even now, for the past couple of years, I thought I was getting better at getting outside of my comfort zone. I’ve gone on some small adventures, branched out in a few other things, but I’ve realized something. Those were still in my comfort zone, they just disguised as brave adventures because they were things I didn’t normally do. The real bravery would be to escape my reality now, and take the jump into the abyss. But the thing about that is… I’m afraid of falling, of failing, of losing everything. And being afraid of those things… It makes me afraid I will never find the courage.

So to those of you who are stuck like me, I feel you. And to those who feel like this is a little naive and definitely a “first world problem”, trust me, I think the same. There are so many more problems in this world, bigger terrors to be afraid of, and here I am ranting about something that feels so childish in comparison. But again, that’s not the point. The point of this was to just talk. To get vulnerable. To connect.

And maybe courage doesn’t start with leaps. Maybe it starts with saying, “This is where I am,” and letting that be true for a while. So this is where I am. Afraid, stuck, and still talking anyway. If you’re stuck too, you’re not alone in it. You’re welcome here. I’ll be here too.

Until next time, I’ll still be casually screaming into the void.