Fear

I try to think about my future. My head starts spinning, I’m quickly getting confused and my heart starts beating rapidly. I imagine happiness, college, a husband, children, a life… And that is what I truly wish for, but the images are fading and others come into light. Hospital beds, rehab, feeding tubes, treatment plans… I’m scared, terrified. I try, I keep on trying, but I’m still scared.
My mom asks: “What do you expect to achieve with this treatment plan?”
I run to my room screaming, then start crying. What do I expect? Nothing. I’m too scared to expect anything from myself anymore. I expected to go to college. I failed. I expected to have a life. I failed. I try to. Often I fail. And all others see are the failures: not the tiny little victories which should be celebrated. I’m terrified of failing, again and again and again as I have so often. I’m scared I won’t make it. I fear that even if I keep fighting, it will never become bearable. I’m scared I will never make the people I care about happy, scared they may never see me healthy.
So I don’t answer, I pretend I’m sure I’m going to be okay. I’m not, but I say it anyways. I try to never think about the future, only cling on to the small steps I can take in the present. It’s the only way not to panic.

Dysfunctional Girl