Rejection
Am I afraid of sharks or being alone in the ocean and not able to see the dark bottom?
If I was drifting alone in some sea, I'd rather drown than have a sea creature stare at me from the depths below before shredding me to pieces. I can feel the razor sharp teeth scraping my bones. But what's worse, is the anticipation before, as the large fin reaches the surface and glides gracefully around me, sniffing out my fear.
No, that's not real fear. That's all unimaginable and far-fetched.
Let's talk heights. Am I afraid of heights or afraid of falling? I can travel to the top of Willis (Sears) Tower and look down from one of the glass-bottom balconies, but I can't climb a ladder 10 feet off the ground without shaking uncontrollably. That feeling right when your center of gravity shifts and you brace for impact before hitting the floor.
I've never been a great athlete because I never learned to fall appropriately. Who knew there was a proper way to fall.
I've known for a long time my biggest fear was rejection. Not the fear of being alone or public speaking, even death can't shake me like rejection. I don't apply for promotions, I don't ask the girl out on a date, and I don't dare tell my family I'm gay. Rejection, rejection, and rejection.
Cruises, scuba-diving, surfing, out of the question. Ski-lifts, skydiving, parasailing, not gonna happen.
I remain in the same dead end job, single, and sleeping with men to put a bandaid on the temporary loneliness. But, I'm safe from razor-sharp teeth piercing my skin and my bones being shattered by velocity's force from 50 ft fall off the ride to the top of the Franklin Mountains.
Jumping Back in Time
Sometimes when I lie down to sleep, I get very afraid that I will jump back in time.
So if I do close my eyes, in a flash I'll wake up on the old sofa in my parent's basement and I will be seven years old again. Everyone in my present life is gone and some people don't even exist yet. I'll need to do everything all over again, suffering the same losses, learning about all the terrible things that people did, how loved ones died and how people broke my heart. I'll need to repeat college statistics, suffer the bullies in high school and then there's acne. Sigh. All over again.
So I will open my eyes and let them adjust to the darkness; just to make sure I'm still in the here and now.
But then maybe I'll wake up in my first apartment, still alone and looking for a job. Then the phone will ring and I will already know what the call is about, when my sister was in the car accident or when the family dog passed away. I'll have to work to meet someone and get a job all over again. Maybe it will work out, maybe it won't.
And the twist on this story is if I wake up when everything has changed.
So I'll wake up in shorts and socks in the basement of my first house, the one I sold to a nice young couple with a baby. I will hear them walking around upstairs. Their dog will sense my presence and start to growl and scratch at the basement door. I'll need to somehow sneak out of their house without setting off the alarm, or maybe they will see me there and call the police. Nobody will believe my story about time travel, they will think I'm some crazy pervert and put me in a padded cell until the delusions pass.
Or I'll simply have to walk home in shorts and socks, avoiding dogs and barbed wire fences. All the while running from cops who track down and arrest random people in shorts and socks running through backyards, people who cannot explain how they got there and why.
That's my biggest fear.