Cristina Crescenzo (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer
Many things in this world scare me: clowns, birds, public speaking, parties and even something as non-threatening as butterflies. However, none of these things would be my honest answer to the question: “What terrifies me the most?” It is something that makes me feel far more vulnerable than any other phobia could. It’s the fear of being alone.
I don’t mean being alone in the traditional sense, like being left alone in my house overnight; it is the fear that everyone I ever loved might abandon me. I never want to be left alone on my own personal solitary island. That is why I try so hard to be liked: I over-talk, over-smile and over-laugh because I assume perpetual happiness equals everlasting relationships with others.
I write this now knowing full well that there is no such thing as perpetual happiness. Eventually, you will get tired, and that’s when the feeling of enduring sadness commences. Unfortunately, I have never been one to feel in half measures, so instead of excessive joy, I cry too much, I overindulge in every melancholy feeling and every half-thought-out impulse that pops into my head, and worst of all, I knick people with the knife I put into my own back. Therefore, maybe I should amend my previous response to something along these lines: What terrifies me the most is that I feel too much. It is because of my emotional dysregulation that I dread being left alone with only my contradicting thoughts as company.
The funny part about all this is that I can honestly say I am in the best place, mentally, that I have ever been in my life. It’s just that I still live with that internal fear of not knowing what emotions I will get that day and if I might burst like a balloon because there are just too many for me to hold at once. I also say this fully aware that each new day a person receives in the morning comes with the unknown of the events and the feelings they will bring, but I am also one of the people who believe that they feel too much for one body to bear. Yet, it’s not like I don’t want to feel anything at all, so where can I find a proper balance? There is only so much a prescription and bi-monthly conversations with a therapist can do. That is why, I suppose, I am always a little bit afraid. I am proud of my growth, but sadly, I can’t say that I fully trust my mind or heart. I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of anything more terrifying than that.
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My name is Cristina Crescenzo and there are many days when I have no idea what I am doing, but writing for this blog makes me happy as I try to figure things out.