So that we can fear Him.
So that we will stay in control.
So that we won't go astray.
It's that conscience screaming in our heads right before we do something we don't want to do.
There are reasons why we don't want to do something: We know it's wrong, we've never done it before.
And they both have that fear in them.
There are a lot of things I'm scared of in this world, despite the fact that some people think I am the strongest and fearless person they know.
I've been called many things. Sociable, open, brave, courageous, initiative, active, adventurous.
But no one really knows all the things I'm scared of.
They probably know I'm scared of a couple of horror films, or that I'm scared of ants (due to a traumatic experience).
They don't know I'm scared of losing someone close to me.
So scared to the point where I get every emotion mixed inside and go crazy and insane for a while. People mistake it for anger, or me overreacting. But I'm not. It's my way of showing that that person is very close to me, and I care for them a lot.
They don't know that I'm scared of losing someone to the wrong person.
I'm not jealous. I care and I love that person. I've discussed this with a friend before. If my boyfriend were to fall in love with one of my best friends, by all means, go ahead, provided that I think that my best friend or boyfriend deserves someone like that. I absolutely wouldn't mind. Or if my boyfriend were to fall in love with one of his bestest friends that he's known for a long time, provided that she treats me the same way as well. But if I think that he does not deserve someone like her, or she does not deserve someone like him, I'd definitely get pissed... REALLY pissed at either one or both of them.
They don't know just HOW MUCH I'm afraid of getting hurt the same way twice.
There was a time when I trusted everyone, too easily perhaps. My first mistake. My trust was ruined by 3 people. And they say, 3rd time's the charm. From them on, I've been cynical, cold, and just plain mean. Sure, I did trust some more people afterwards, but there's always a small doubt nagging at me in the back of my head. It's trauma I tell you. I wanted to learn from my previous mistakes. It's not a matter of being afraid to make mistakes and getting hurt. It's the matter of making the same mistake TWICE, and getting hurt the same way TWICE.
They don't know that sometimes I'm scared of my own imagination.
At times I wish I wasn't such a creative person. At times, I wish I'm just a dumb autistic kid without a lot of thoughts. Because without these thoughts, maybe some accusations wouldn't have taken place. Maybe some arguments wouldn't have started. Maybe I wouldn't be killing myself inside out. I think too much when I'm silent by myself. Ideas just appear in my head out of nowhere and gets me thinking about things. I start doubting people, I start regretting things, I start changing my mind. I even scare myself at night, or when I'm in the toilet with all the lights on. I feel like something creeping on the back of my neck, wanting to grab me and choke me to death. Or that something is going to come out of the toilet bowl, the sink, or the drain, and drag my forcefully down with it to hell. And you know how I reassure myself despite feeling myself shaking and standing on ends? I tell myself, "It's okay. At least, if I die now, I won't have to face the end of the world and suffer with everyone else. And I don't have to take my exams or go to school anymore. And I don't have to listen to anymore of my mother's nagging."
They don't know that I'm scared of myself.
I'm scared that if something happens, I might lose control. I might end up hurting more people than I should. I might end up regretting the decision I made. Sometimes, I'm afraid of me hurting myself. I've done it before. No, I've never slit my wrists. I nearly did it once, but the reason why I stopped was vanity. I didn't want to leave scars behind. I've considered committing suicide... every once in a while. Jumping off a rooftop, hanging myself, slitting my wrists in the bathtub, jumping in front of a moving car, jumping out a window... I've thought of it, and considered it. And I always think about how I'd end up dying... How much suffering I'd have to go through before I breath my last breath, or what I'd look like in a casket with a distorted face. And there were probably times where I would have actually gone with it. But then the thoughts that were holding me back were things like, "I need to tell you I love you," or "He loves me. And I'm going to keep on living because of it." Or "I still want to go traveling... so okay fine I'll endure my family some more."
I am seriously crazy.
I seriously am.
I should go see a fucking psychiatrist.
People should actually stay away from me because I might actually kill them.
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