Shit That Scar(r)ed Me

I will skip the question “Are you scared of something?” because come on, you must be, there has to be something. You don’t have to tell me (but if you wan’t to, feel free and message me, I promise I won’t tell anyone), but ehh, you may want to answer this one for yourself. You know me, I will take my own advice and answer this for myself but also share it with the world wide web because I do not know what privacy means. So, what are you scared of, huh? What were you scared of? Are there any traces of that in your life, today? (Btw it also counts if it’s only noticeable to you.)

Being scared. What the fuck does that even mean? I mean I know what it means, but, why was kid-me scared of shadows shaped like men in big ass coats, dolls killing people, women breaking men’s legs, and red-lipped women with holes in their stomachs? Dumb things that were not even real. They all scared me for a while, some longer than others. Eventually though, I got over every one of them. I have overcome all those fears. I grew out of them. I mean, yeah, I may flinch occasionally whenever I come across some of my childhood fears by accident, but not because I am scared anymore (I am a big girl now ok, I can handle it like a pro), but simply because it reminds me of the good old scary days. It’s a bit nostalgic for me too actually.

However, I do have one funny phobia that nobody but my family knows about and it is low-key embarrassing, so I am not gonna tell you guys about it, because then you’ll make fun of me, so umm, no. I know I tell you everything but come on, there have to be some boundaries. This is one of them. I’ll say this much though. Essentially, it’s an irrational fear of a specific.. object? you could say. I am not sure how or when exactly I developed it but my point is, this one fear, IT NEVER DISAPPEARED, I just deal with it.

Ok let’s recap. There are fears I had as a kid based on a reaction to something, that I eventually grew out of. Then there are those inexplicable phobia-based fears that continue to persist (unless you treat them somehow but I never did because it’s not THAT bad so that it is interfering with my life or anything). And wait, there are other fears I have that are similar to my childhood fears in the sense that I developed them in response to a specific situation or experience. But it’s not about being scared of shadows or fictional protagonists, you guys! They’re like, real? For example, I am low-key scared of cars and sharp objects, I was never afraid of these things a child, but as an adult, I am literally scarred man, they make me shit my pants sometimes.

Anyway, let’s move on. Scars make me think of pain. But what the fuck is pain, really? Ok there is emotional pain. There is physical pain. But I am not sure I have ever experienced excruciating pain. Like either physical or emotional. Or maybe I have…? But I just never perceived it as THAT bad. I don’t get it. I am contradicting in everything, not just my personality or interests, but also pain. My threshold for pain is weird. I am weird. I was more heartbroken over fictional characters dying, breaking up or experiencing any other form of hardship than something that had actually left ME heartbroken in real life. I scream like a bitch when my mom tries to comb my hair or pop a zit, but I remain composed when my bones snap in pieces or my leg suddenly looks like a chopped up watermelon. Yeah yeah I know, the way we respond to fear certainly depends on the circumstances too. Also whether you anticipate the pain or not obviously. Either way, the way we process different types of pain, omg, it’s so fascinating. Brains are so weird, man.

Omg I know, I sound like I am completely out of it. I can’t express myself at all. I genuinely have no idea what I am even trying to say today, no idea why I wrote this at all. I just feel like stressing that being scared and being scarred comes it all kinds of shapes. It can come and go just as quickly. It can creep up on you, hit you out of nowhere. It can be a slow burn, stay with you forever. Pain can be beautiful. It can teach you oh so many things about yourself. Pain can linger. Pain can be ugly. Like a sharpie mark you can’t wash off, yikes. Yeah I suppose it’s true, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger but sometimes it also just makes you number.