I’m insanely scared.
No. This is worse than you would ever imagine. Scared to the point of forgetting who I am and what I am [worth].
Scared to the point of becoming numb to all attempts of consolation. Scared to the point of losing all desire of food or sleep.
I am half dead.
And why? If I don’t even have an answer yet? And why? If probabilities for the unwanted are remote?
When one stares at death in the face, along with one’s worst fears, and time is pulling forwards, one becomes this. One enters this stage of dehumanization and through the most cruel kind of paralysis, one suffers. One only suffers.
I wish I could hope for the best. I don’t deserve other than the best. Why am I so scared?
This is not my life. This is someone else’s nightmare. I am not meant to walk this plank. I am not meant for the deep waters.