Fear is a shadow that follows me everywhere, an uninvited guest that clings to the edges of my mind. It doesn't announce its arrival; it simply slides into my thoughts, poisoning them with doubt and dread. It's the tightening in my chest when I'm alone, the cold sweat on my skin in the dead of night. Fear whispers that I'm not enough, that I'll never be enough.
It’s in the silence of an empty room, the hollow echo of my own footsteps. Fear paralyzes me, making every decision feel like a step off a cliff. It's the invisible hand that grips my throat, choking the words I want to say, leaving me voiceless and isolated. It convinces me that every shadow hides a threat, that every person harbors judgment.
Fear is relentless, a cruel tormentor that never rests. It gnaws at my sanity, turning every moment of peace into a fleeting illusion. I am trapped in its grip, struggling to breathe under its weight. Each day is a battle, each night a struggle to find some semblance of rest.
The worst part is the loneliness it brings. Fear isolates me, creating a chasm between myself and the world. It makes me believe that no one can understand, that no one would want to understand. It builds walls around my heart, leaving me imprisoned in my own mind.
Fighting fear feels like fighting the darkness itself—an endless, exhausting battle. It takes all my strength to keep going, to push back against the despair that threatens to consume me. Yet, even in the depths of this struggle, a part of me clings to the hope that one day, I’ll break free from fear’s suffocating grasp. Until then, I fight on, one breath at a time.