Fear as a dictator of my actions

As I mull over the infinite possibilities and variations of topics about which I could write, one that I find prominent and that I feel controls a large portion of my life: fear.

I realized this a few months ago when I was talking to new acquaintances, and somehow, the discussion steered in a particular direction, and I simply said: "One thing that I'm afraid of is to walk outside and see someone I know without recognizing them." This has happened many times, to the point that someone needs to be waving their hand about 30 cm from my face for me to notice them... There's a 99% chance that I'll be listening to music and/or somewhere far inside my mind when I'm walking outside, be it a leisurely stroll or a power walk from point A to point B, and I'm usually more or less oblivious and unaware of my general surroundings. Unbeknownst to myself, that simple sentence revealed to me the depth of my ambiguous relationship with the sentiment of being afraid. To my statement, one of the girls replied without hesitation: "Oh, but you mustn't be afraid." And her answer has stuck with me since then.

As I turned around that sentence in my mind, I realized how obstructed I am in my everyday life. I realized that the fears aren't phobias, but rather inhibitions that hold me back.

- Going to a new place: what if I get lost?
- A few hours before going to a social event where I'll have to mingle and meet new people: what if I don't find anybody to talk to? And worse, what if I do find people to talk to and they think I'm dull and unintelligent?
- After the excitement about a new opportunity has faded: why did I bother to apply? I'll get rejected and then I'll feel worse about myself.
- About doing something new by myself: Why did I think this was a good idea? I should just stay at home...

And I could name such examples for a few pages. Looking at it, I realize it all comes back around to my perceived lack of social skills. Do I actually lack social skills? No, probably not, though I must admit that I'm more comfortable as part of a group, and I don't have to do much of the talking. I'm very happy with sitting back and following the conversation, chipping in when I feel the need, but not being the centre of attention at all times.

I try to step out of my comfort zone when I can, though these nagging little voices in my head keep telling me nasty things. They're hard to ignore, and they really sap my morale. I tell myself that by being self-aware of this tendency, I can combat it more effectively, and kick my fear producing brain in the butt, like an old computer that somehow responds to the physical knocking on it's outer shell when it keeps crashing. It's probably not doing anything, but makes you feel better.

A general feeling of dread

I've had a few things on my mind lately. Not that I don't usually juggle with a thousand thoughts anyhow, but these are persistent, and I keep coming back to them. Last night, during a bout of insomnia, I sat in front of my mirror and started braiding in my fake dreads. With my laptop on a stool next to me, playing music at a low volume so as not to disturb my housemate who are usually asleep at 3 in the morning. That peaceful quiet time with myself allowed me to think more about these two things, and let me analyse them, and compare, and try to rationalize my feelings.

The first one is about my birthday. I'm turning 23 in a few days, and I'm trying to decide whether or not I want to do anything for it. I'm inclined to not do anything and spend the evening at home, but at the same time, a part of my brain tells me I should try to do something. In an ideal world, I would invite my close friends over to dinner at my place. This scenario won't work though, for two simple reasons. My kitchen is extremely unfriendly, all with being too small and not having a table... The second is that I just haven't been able to make the connections with people that I would consider close friends. Friends, yes sure. I've made a few of them, and they're all very nice and interesting. But I'm so insecure, and I'm so used to people not turning up whenever I've tried to invite not-quite-close-friends to similar events that it's causing me more anxiousness than anything else. I've invited a few of these new friends for late night pizza, let's see how that turns out.

The second is my upcoming trip to Munich and Vienna. I'm extremely lucky in the fact that my brother is currently in Germany, and that I have next week off from work, and so I'm able to travel to Munich to see him for a couple of days. I'm really looking forward to seeing him, though I'm a little disappointed that he's in Munich. I've been saying for the past few weeks that I hate Munich, and so I'm not exactly excited about going there. That feeling stems from the general feel of Munich, which I didn't like the first nor the second time I was there, and also because of something that happened last time I visited, and of which I care not to describe anymore than this vague statement. I'll be staying in a hostel there, hoping I'll meet some travelers with whom to talk. Otherwise, I might just have a couple of glasses of Wine at the hostel bar and lose myself in a book.
On Feb 2 I'll be taking the bus to Vienna. and spending a few days there. I'm actually looking forward to that leg of the trip. Some people have told me that Vienna has an eastern european feeling to it (which is why they didn't like it). I must say, I like eastern Europe. Very much so, hopefully I'll like Vienna then! I've also been told that it's a little bit bourgeois in its ways. There's only way to find out. I've reached out to the online community on couchsurfing for people to meet and things to do. So far on my agenda I have visiting the Belvedere collection of Klimt and Schiele, eating a piece of Sachertorte, going to some heavy-inclined bar/pub/establishment that serves alcohol, and possibly going to a karaoke night.
Knowing myself, I'm excited now, though on the day of I'll only want to stay in my bed, and not bother with going anywhere. I almost always feel like that. The days leading to a new situation (a trip, a party, a new class, anything that takes me out of my house to go and possibly meet new people in short) I'm stocked, and then on the day of, I don't know what happens, but all that excitement strangely scampered away and leaves me wishing I had never decided to do anything. It's this constant feeling of dragging a boulder behind me, without being able to shake off its chains that are so strongly bound to my ankles. I try to get out of my comfort zone, I know it's healthy to do so, and I almost never regret it. Conscioustly, I know I'm being silly, but I can't simply take a day off, tell that dreadful part of my brain to shove it and actually enjoy myself for once.

It seems to me that almost everything I do lately has this impending sense of doom. It seems silly that I'm so overly conscious of my thoughts and what I sense as their crushing inaccuracy concerning the 'real world'. I wonder if one day I'll be able to reconcile the two parts of my brain that keep steering me in completely opposite directions.

Acknowledgement of my status as a white privileged bitch

First thing first, a cold hard look at the truth of my situation.

I'm a white woman, privileged already by that simple fact.
My body shape is quite average, not super skinny, not fat. A healthy size, with a rounded stomach, like the renaissance nudes that I like so much, with some curves, but not too much.
I have an education, a bachelor's degree at the age of 22, and waiting to see if I'm accepted to grad school to pursue a master's.
My parents are supportive, and they even help me out financially, as I have a lot of student debt. Although I technically don't make a lot of money, I have a roof over my head, I'm warm, I have clothes that let me indulge in my gothic-inclined tastes, and I eat whenever I'm hungry.
Not only that, but I'm also living in Europe for the year, and I have a job that isn't too demanding, and they give me lot's of holidays. And I travel during those holidays, because I'm able to save money and spend it on exploring new places.

Sounds like I'm on the right track to be happy. But I'm not. And I realize that my situation should by default make me happy. I'm able to fulfill all of my basic needs and beyond. I feel like I'm not allowed to complain about my situation, because so many people in the world don't have access to half of what I take for grated. And it makes me feel ashamed of myself for being unable to appreciate those things to their just value.

For Christ's sake. I'm eating nutella out of the jar, and I'm contemplating which movie I should watch later this evening. What is that for a rough existence?

I'm constantly trying to reconcile one side of my self with the other side, and I'm utterly failing. I'm feeling empty most of the time. I have a hard time getting excited about anything. I put on a smile, a real smile, because I'm apparently able to control the muscles around my eyes that tell the difference between a genuine smile and a fake one. I fake that everything is alright, because I can't explain how it's not.