I feel helpless and alone and I feel like once I move away, those feelings will only intensify. I’m scared. Not just of moving away and starting this new chapter in my life, but of leaving my parents when they’re still, unfortunately, in what seems like a pretty helpless, at times, hopeless situation with the seismic repercussions from my dad losing his job a few months ago.
So I’m afraid. Not just for myself but for my parents. And the thing about being afraid is that it’s like in the horror movies when you don’t know what exactly it is that you’re afraid of, so you don’t know how to deal with it. Once you see what it is you’re afraid of, you can know how to cope and how to survive.
And that’s what I’m doing. I’m afraid, and I’m surviving. Because in recognizing my fear, I recognize the metaphorical monster under the bed. I know it’s there. I know why it’s there. Now that I know, it can’t hurt me as much.