The World is Starting to Scare Me

Lately the world has started to scare me again. I haven’t felt this way since I was a struggling student.

Sure I’ve never truly like the job I was doing but it was giving me enough money for a life. But now.. the raises cannot keep up with the inflation.

And the life I want to hold on to feels like it’s slipping away from me. I write sad stories to feel an ounce better, as I splash my worry and fear on a page. But some days it’s nothing compared to the real pain inside. And I know I’m not alone.

Food becomes expensive, rents begin to rise, the housing markers a disaster, and debt is starting to rise. I’m only 26. But I feel so much older. And yet I’m critiqed for the debt. The student debit is crumbling, and I need a car. So I added that too and let’s not forget the credit card. I didn’t want my friends to worry and I was very depressed. So I racked up credit card debt to keep feeling like my best.

And it wasn’t all a waste of money. Sometimes it was just to buy some gas and some groceries. Tell me is that really luxury? I bought myself dance class and the costumes to go with. And sure maybe I should have picked such an expensive hobby… but I felt so alive on the stage and it helped me keep the depression demons at bay. Maybe dance is a luxury but I couldn’t throw my sanity away. And I wanted to still be able to do things with my friends, not even always expensive things either. Just gas money to see them and food to maintain us. But I’ll be shamed for the small purchases of goods I maybe didn’t need. I didn’t need the candy or the new book. I suppose I didn’t need a new crystal for my collection. They were just a dopamine hit. And I justified my ways by saying I deserve to let myself have small things here and there.

But inflation kept rising and even then I thought my spending was okay, because I bought local crafts, foods and wares. COVID already hurt their business and these people need to live too. I thought I could support them but I’ve lead myself to my own doom.

The funny thing is I don’t regret it… not really. I don’t regret the trips to see friends and family. The small trinkets and treats I got myself. The promises that this gas bill would be on the credit card but next pay day I could pay some of it off… because it kept me alive and helped me keep my demons inside.

But now that there isn’t much wiggle room left. I find myself afraid of what is next? Do I buy food this week or take care of that debit? And I scare myself into staying quiet about it because it was my choice. And I don’t regret it. I’ll still dance in the fall and I will survive. But the reason the world scares me so much is because there are people who won’t.

People who made the same choices as me. Who will no longer have an outlet to make them happy. And theropy costs a fortune. And I have to watch them fight to live, to survive. And know I’m walking in their shoes too but not in the same way. Because I’m poor but I’m not being stamped on by the population. They still see me as middle class. So I’m safe for now.

But I cringe every time I see another post on saving money. When politicians tell us to cut back expenses by denying our families entertainment and food. Because let’s face it, fast food is still cheaper than groceries that expire too fast in the fridge.

I fake a smile at my 8-5 job. Crying because I don’t know how to keep going. When I’m working 40 hours every week. And I’ve convinced myself I’m a failure for not being like everyone else. So my mental health suffers more to keep this body physically alive. And when I come home stressed. I struggle to force myself to work out and lose those extra pounds! Because my doctor won’t listen to my health concerns until she ‘sees’ these imaginary lifestyle changes. I’m not stressed I’m just obese to her. Never mind the fact that my period is skipping and I’m so stressed and depressed some days when I am off… I sleep for 18 hours.

And I don’t have the ability to balance the money to pay out of pocket for the therapist and submit a claim to the insurance my job has promised me will cover my medical. But only up to a certain number. Because my price tag is so low to them, that it doesn’t matter if I burn out or die. Another body can replace the work I do.

And when I’ve finally had enough the news comes on. And the world is on fire again. And that place is flooding. Homeless people are being discriminated against and racisim is still real. A bunch of refugees died at sea and no one tried to give them aid or money. We didn’t even give our own people money. But when billionaires go missing, historical buildings burn down, and another famous person dies. I am reminded what is ‘really’ important. And it’s not people.

The world will go on without me. It will keep dying as resources run out and inflation keeps rising. Because it’s what we know. And I’m so far at the bottom some days all my small efforts to save the world go unheard.

And yet all these problems seems so small. But add them up together and they become so hard.

That’s only society in the political and economical aspect. Both of which I seem to be failing at. Socially, I’m an abomination.

When I was young and Christian the church told me I was tainted. And I’m female; some blamed me for the fall of man. I was a temptation to boys and had to be watched and reproached. When I didn’t go to bible collage I sudden lost all my friends because I didn’t go with them. I didn’t strengthen my faith or go against my family. I made my choice and suddenly I was no longer a forgiven member of the flock. I was rejected and turned out.

Yet when I grew older and decided I wanted to be spiritual. They called me a witch, tainted and a temptation to the flock. They never told me, I could be good.

As a young female surviving on my own. I’m constantly asked when I’ll find a man. To help me out and be less lonely. But I don’t believe in monogamy and I found out I am Pan. So im even more of a social reject. No family. No husband. What about kids.

I don’t want to bring kids into this broken world. I wanted them once . Truly I did. But because they aren’t my wombs first priority I must be selfish and strange. Or I must be a hater of kids. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. So they all look at me strangely.

And any male friends I have. People have to ask. Is that your man? And if their married they give me a look of horror. A married man how wicked of you. Yet I like women too. But none of my female friends are a concern to them.

So I stay lonely I guess. But not how you think. I stay lonely because I don’t want to hurt anyone. And society has taught me, I’m tainted, I’m selfish, I’m broke so I’m smooching from them. My past taught me to hid my emotions and I learned to care for others. I cringe at the thought of fleshing this post out. Even though my soul has been screaming to share it. To write something no matter how stupid and vague it sounds. Because if I can’t say it out loud I should write it. Document it….

Scream that the world is a scary place and I don’t know how to survive. But I’m clinging onto life, like a parasite. Because I’m not a machine, I’m not the past horrors I’ve seen, I’m not just some random person in the middle of it all. That ever single one of us has a right to live… and all these problems and issues I have with the system in place… show me far too much that I am not always living. Because it only made space for me to living in small moments, and treat those moments as the reward of some long struggle that they labeled real life.