Fear is a funny thing. I might suggest that fear is the most powerful deterrent to any form of change, risk, or adventure. Fear drives us to do stupid things, insane things, things that we would never in our right mind do. It makes our heart race, adreanaline pump, emotions flare. Fear takes hold in the innermost depths of our souls, and threatens to tear down all that can be good.

I have seen it absolutely destroy people. I have seen it trap them within a cage of their own imagination. I have seen it hold them back from the potential that they are too afraid to even admit is there.

I myself seem to have a pretty large tolerance to fear. I crave the sense of reckless abandon that come with walking that fine line of insane and control. I am an adrenaline junkie. I thrive off of hanging hundreds of feet from the ground on rocks that crumble under my body weight. I love, almost even need, to be pushing the limits of what most would find as fearful. 

However, as I begin to grow up, I am beginning to understand a piece of that “fearlessness”. It’s not that I’m not afraid. In fact, I am beginning to see that I am terrified. I am incredibly fearful when it comes to letting people in. Words cannot even adequately paint the picture of the fear involved with what it takes to let someone in. I am so afraid of it, that I have been able to adapt in a way that lets people think that I have let them in.

In Good Will Hunting, Sean asks will if he has a soul mate. A person who “you can relate to, someone who opens things up for you.” Someone who pushes you, encourages you, is always there for you, even when you don’t want them to be. 

Many people would say that they know me. However I would only say about two or three people know me well enough to genuinely look out for my soul. Part of that is a healthy thing, for not everyone can have the pearls of your heart. But a lot of that is my fear dictating what I do. 

I am scared to death of letting people know me. I am afraid of giving them a piece of my heart. I am afraid of letting them know where I have been, what I have seen, and what I have experienced. I am afraid that once I do that they will simply walk away. I am afraid that if I trust, I will be hurt. I am afraid of the thing I most crave — intimacy. Intimacy with friends and family. Intimacy that is vulnerable, sacrificial, loving. 

I’m afraid that I won’t be able to love that way. I’m afraid that if someone lets me in, I’m going to mess it up and hurt them. I’m afraid that I will do to them what I am most afraid they can do to me. 

Thus, I find myself walking that line of insanity. Pushing my body to the edge of fear so that I never have to truly push my soul into the fear that so paralyzes me. I would much rather fall  150 feet off of a rock face to the ground, than open my heart up to let someone abandon me again. I hate this part of me. I know how much I need that intimacy with friends. But right now I don’t want to risk it anymore. I don’t want to be vulnerable. I want to push people away instead of having those tough convo’s, and I want to go hang off the side of a mountain. 

I know the answers, I just don’t have the energy to face them right now…