Fear: A distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain etc., whether the threat is real or imagined. Anticipation of the possibility that something unpleasant will occur.
However you choose to define fear, it is a horrible feeling. It consumes your body, making it feel as if you can’t breathe, as if you’re drowning and can’t swim to the surface to gasp in the sweet, peaceful calm that we crave. You feel paralysed, your muscles seem to stop working altogether, and you can’t think straight. Your thoughts race at a million miles per hour, yet you can’t grasp hold of a single one long enough to make sense of it and think of a way to react to the impending danger.
But it’s not always that extreme. Sometimes, just the thought of an event, a person, or an object can induce feelings of fear. It can feel like thick, bubbling liquid pulsing through your veins, making your body feel heavy and slow. It feels like you’re suffocating, but when you try to breathe all you can inhale is thick, humid, foggy air. You feel like you’re falling, spiralling beyond your control, falling until you hit the ground.
I personally am always discovering new fears. Things such as heights and spiders are the bigger ones, but there are other ones, things such as cows and riding motorbikes. But tonight, I realised one of my biggest fears.
I was standing at my bathroom sink washing my hands, when I realised: I’m absolutely terrified of having regrets. I cannot handle the thought of getting to the end of my life, and realising I’m not content with my life and how it played out. I never want to wish that I could do my life over again. I’m so scared of sitting in my rocking chair alone and thinking to myself “I wish I had kissed that boy. I wish I had told my mother that I love her more often. I wish I had told my best friend how much they meant to me.” That thought petrifies me.
I don’t think many people realise that they’re never getting any younger. That they’re the youngest they’re ever going to be. That one day, they’re going to wake up and they’ll be 40, and they won’t remember where all the years went. Heck, even I forget sometimes. But then I remember that I’m only ever getting older, and I feel that suffocating feeling again.