BEDiM 2013 : DAY 7"/>

BEDiM 2013 : DAY 7

(A Blog Every Day in May 2013 Challenge Entry)

Still truckin’ along after finally getting two hours of sleep this morning. Okay, make that four as I just woke up from a 2 hour on/off nap. Yes, I only wrote one sentence before passing out. Rackin’ in those Zzz’s yo! Let’s take a gander at today’s writing prompt:

Day 7, Tuesday: The thing(s) you're most afraid of

Hmm... well, I definitely am not afraid of losing sleep. However, I’m afraid of passing out one of these times on my late night outings. I already have the desire to sleep when in a car (like a leftover relaxation effect from when I was an infant), and the lack of sleep really solidifies my body’s attempt to make it happen.

What else...

Fraught with the Freaky Deaky

I believe I share some of the standard fears many people have: Heights, clowns (you know do too), bees/wasps, etc. I don’t necessarily fear these things from afar, but close up is no good. Like spiders and bugs, I can be pretty passive about — where some freak out just at the sight of them — unless they are on me.

I guess I’m afraid of June Bugs, though. Those suckers are creepy and I’ve had a personal battle with one that almost left my newly purchased laptop in ruins. I can already feel the fear welling up... June is almost here...

Once I used to love sharks, but after Jaws and many shark shows/documentaries, that love turned to fear. So much so that I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable going out in the ocean ever. I can look out over the ocean from the safety of a beach or plane, but that’s close enough.

There are many little things I’m afraid of, but I can’t think of any one thing that is odd and bizarre that would be worth sharing. One of my “heavy hitters” is one that most every individual faces at some point in their life. Whether in their job/career, passions, family, relationships — or any other multitude of fitting settings — it can rear it’s ugly face.

“My Fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.”
-Jack Kerouac

My one greatest fear is that of failure. This fear plagues my life from the simple mundane day to day tasks, to the unknown possibilities of the future. This is a factor in my ever present anxiety over new experiences. That whatever this new thing is, I will somehow fail at it. Some examples of the day to day would be:

Trying a new gas station. Are their pumps set up the same as the ones I’m accustomed to using? If not, am I going to be standing outside at the pump looking like an idiot?

Driving anywhere new. Just afraid of getting lost and stranded somewhere, especially if low on gas being the above fear has stopped me from refilling HA! This fear is one of the easiest to override. Most fears associated with going somewhere new involve the actual experience waiting for me at said destination.

These type of things seem silly — even to me — but they are real.

Then there are the things I am afraid of failing at on a larger scale:

Failure of my passions. This would involve my writing, first and foremost. That I won’t ever get around to actually writing the stories in my head. They will remain locked up, imprisoned and left to rot — to be forgotten — in the darkest recess of my mind.

Associated with this is the failure to accurately tell/share said stories. Will I be able to articulate all the things I see in my imagination? Enough so that others see what I do? I understand this isn’t always  the reality when it comes to writing. In fact, A lot of my writing — I think I’ve found — leaves a lot of room for interpretation, so that the reader can “fill-in-the-blank” with their own imagination. I find it to be an important aspect; to not completely overly define/describe anything and everything.

Then I fear I can’t describe things even on a simplistic level...

What if I do get it all out? What if, by chance, I do become published and my work is out there for the world to see? What if the world rejects it? While I don’t want to write for money — though, to be paid for doing so wouldn’t be brushed off — I do hope it reaches some sort of audience. That there will be some that will be touched by my story.

This directly conflicts with my struggle to accept that I’m writing for myself. If nothing more than to just get out the overabundance of ideas assaulting my creative vein. I can’t control who likes my writing, subject manner, plot/story,  or my odd, disjointed sense of communication. But yet, I fear it. It may be irrational, as I’m unfamiliar with any piece of work everyone simultaneous hates on a unanimous level, but I do.

I believe I’ve spoken about it before, but I seem to associate my getting published with making people proud. That I’ve actually amounted to something. I know, and tell myself on occasion, that friends and family are proud of me regardless of my accomplishments. So, I suppose I directly link it to my own self worth. That — to me — becoming published will signify to myself that I am indeed not a failure. As mentioned, though, I would then be attributing arbitrary factors (people liking my work) to represent my success.

So all of this tumbles around in my mind, day in and day out, as I try to quell the fears enough to just get my foot in the door. Past that point, rather, because it is in the door. I consider the blogging and fiction pieces I have up representation of that. But, this fear of failure is constantly attempting to crush my foot in the door. Applying pressure at exponential rates, to make quick work of me. Make an amputee of me, before my nonchalant take on Diabetes does. They are involved in a neck-to-neck race.

But Also

I have a deep-rooted fear of success.


Do you happen to share any of the same fears as me? If so, which?