The Voice of Fear

Every other moment, every other day, questions plague my brain. How do I keep going sometimes? I never could stand on my own. No one really paid that much attention to me. When I do receive attention, for some reason, it is flattering. It keeps me distracted, but I end up angry. Is this how I get noticed, by looking good and natural? The outside world has become corrupted and the virtual world became my friend. Now, the virtual world is just as corrupted and maybe even worse. I buckled under pressure with the subtle, backhanded comments. I almost gave up on myself. Wondering why society hates me so much.

I tried hoping, wish, praying, and having faith. It is really difficult when I am let down all the time for no apparent reason. I am always fearful. But I hide it. I am surrounded by fear. I am scared of being, scared of existing, and scared of being human. As a black woman, it is difficult. At this point I am looking for an escape. Please do not tell me about God. There is a higher being, but religion does not come close to my feelings. I will keep that quiet for now.

What I want is control and I am tired of being pushed around. I am tired of feeling not good enough. I do not talk like I am from “the hood” or from “the streets”. I am different in a way a lot of people would not understand. I am something deeper. Who am I without confidence? I am always hiding from something deep down inside. I say I want to succeed, however, these negative voices in my head are both inside and out. Society is colorblind. We believe we can sugarcoat and solve with a pill. You can’t.

I have always been afraid to be. When I talk, are these thoughts are my own? Where society wants me to be everything for someone else or something that is not me. My shell is breaking. It is beaten, battered, bruised. It is an organic breaking, a human breaking. However, it is I still breathing.

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