I’m scared… i’m also nervous, jittery, restless, nauseas, and so far, sleepless. fear is something i was once quite used to.. but it was usually a fear of history repeating itself.. or a fear of the unknown.. but this is something that i have no preconception of: fear of the known potential outcome. i know the worst-case-scenario.. i’ve played it over in my mind a thousand times.
i’d be lying if i said i that i didn’t have a morbid sense of wanting the worst-case-scenario to come true. i know what the worst is, and i (almost) expect it. it’s not attention seeking. it’s justification.
if it’s the worst, then that justifies my fear. it would make me seem somewhat less insane, paranoid, and delusional to you, to my friends, my family, and most importantly, to myself.
when you realise that you were over-reacting, you tend to feel more than a little bit silly.
maybe it’s just me that does that, i don’t know.. i’m not an expert. but i am sick, and i am (at least) somewhat crazy. i prefer the term “odd”.
i keep thinking of when my parents spent the most part of 1994 and ’95 in Malaysia.. that was the first time i had really lived alone, so to speak.. i remember lots of things from that period of time, the moments when i missed them; the moments when i relished the freedom of not having to explain every little thing to them; missing having someone to babble at when i got home; not having to call, if i was going to be late (i never had curfews as such, they just worried about me.. correction. DAD worried about me. ain’t he sweet?).. but there were lots of little things like that..
and then there was this fear. every creak the house made at night. every distant rattle of the skateboarders in the park down the road. every time i opened the door when i got home at night. every time the cat jumped in through the window, and made that spine-chilling “thum-thump” on the kitchen floor.
lying in bed at night, not sleeping, thinking. listening. worrying. wondering.
but that was all about not knowing what to expect.
this time it’s different. i no longer worry so much about what the kids down the road are doing. i recognise the creaks of the house, the sound of the cat coming in. it’s not that i don’t care anymore.. i’m just used to it. when i get home, i still check all the rooms, make sure everything is where i left it, and that no one is there. but its routine now.
yesterday was the first time i’ve had any pain with with all this.. it wasn’t unbearable.. it was barely pain.. more just that i was feeling vastly uncomfortable.. i have no idea why. i’ll find out tomorrow, i guess.
i hope.