South City Confessions: What’s your worst fear?

Here’s something about me.

We all have fears, some bigger than others. Things or ideas that scare us. Realities that cause unease and allow our minds to run wild with scenarios that could push us closer to those fears. If you let it, the mind can rule over you. It’s like treason happening inside the skin.

Outside of mosquitoes trapping me in a phone booth, my worst fear in life is being absolutely and incredibly alone. Dying alone. Not alone on an island kind of “alone,” but in a place by yourself. It’s something I knew wasn’t for me at an early age. Call it a couple good parents mixed with some bullying and an eccentric older brother. Whatever. Place it in a box and shake it up. I spent a lot of time as a kid by my dad’s side when mom was at work, and vice versa.

This isn’t a “die on this hill” opinion, because there are many folks who like the solo life. A good friend of mine who lives in Chicago has it mastered like Obi Wan. George Clooney did it for decades before meeting a lovely Lebanese woman. Being alone means you create the schedule and ride out the fears and highs/lows without another voice in your head. Maybe I like the other voice around too much. Everybody is different, I guess.

Tom Hardy once defended the idea of being alone, calling the process of being by yourself doing whatever comes to mind glorious and under-appreciated. I respect that feeling, and it’s something one could adapt to. It takes time. Coming home to a few rooms of inanimate objects makes you yearn for a ghost in the house. Having someone there even without much interaction at times is like having a light on. It’s a security blanket.

Let’s say you’re alone and the people you want to talk to are either unavailable or don’t want to talk to you. There’s that select group of humans that you share all of your shit in your head with, and then there’s everyone else you know. When that group is consumed, the nights seem longer and the hours twist too easily. Some nights are just quieter, pushed to the corner by disconnection.

What some would categorize as a cry for help or a genuine whine session is a deep meditation about the infusion of change and how it can reignite certain fears that were long buried without being dead. Your worst fears never seem to leave, do they?

What’s life without a few good fears to keep us honest? Drop your worst fear in the comments below, and thank you for reading this short mental killshot.