Fear

Fear entangles me, making me react like a wounded animal. Instead of explaining how I feel and asking for help, I snap and bite and try to wound those around me. How this strategy could possibly get me what I need, I don't know. Maybe I wish my mom could come around, see through the facade, and fix me. She used to be able to. Why can't she do it now?

For that matter, why can't you do it? Why don't you have the skills and insight to see beyond my act? I really wish you did. It would be far easier for me to relax into your knowledge of me than for me to have to show it to you, step by messy step. Could you do that for me please?

Could you assuage my fears? Could you convince me that I'm placing too much import on a short period of time? Could you sift through the layers and confusing emotions that are creating a tidal wave of intertwining scenarios?

I can't seem to do it. I can't seem to speak clearly and simply of what's going through my head. I can suss out small portions and identify them. This is good; it's a first step. But naming the issue offers no solutions. And I sit with these tiny salient details, trying to make sense of them. Yet they cannot exist in a vacuum, and my head can't just take one thing at a time. I continually try to clarify the whole with the little bits of insight. And in doing this, I will fail.

But I will take some solace in the self-examination I've achieved. I will forgive myself the tiny bits - eventually.

And I will listen to these songs on repeat until my center calms a little bit: Fireflies by Owl City and Wonderful by Gary Go.