Today was one of those routine days, though there were some irregular situations that I found myself in. Unexpectedly waking up alone threw me into a disoriented panic - something that happened to me often as a little girl. Since my parents owned a restaurant, one of them would have to get up in the middle of the night to visit the building and do routine checks. Whenever this happened, some internal clock of mine would set off an alarm and I would wake up, run straight to my parents room, and see that my mother went out at 2 am. At that age, they never told me the reason why. I would cry and cry; out of fear mostly. This phase passed only when my parents would forewarn me that one of them would disappear into the night to take care of errands. I guess that fear was triggered this morning. It’s irrational, I knew that then and I know that now. Though it agitated me today, I’m somewhat thankful it happened. It’s a reminder of lessons learned. Apparently, your past neurotic predicaments never really disappear. You just have to accept that it exists as a part of your identity, and in doing so, you won’t fall into that disoriented panic again.
Fear sometimes sits in the back of my mind.
What if I sound unintelligent in class
What if I never find the right niche to work in
What if I have a faulty uterus
What if I inhale a watermelon seed
And then I remember I always had a “what-if” complex since childhood. And then I turn on some chillwave and distract myself all over again.