Monsters Inc.

I just booked my ticket back to California after 9 months of travelling. There's this deep-seeded feeling of fear that resonates throughout my entire body every time I think of being back. I left the Bay Area in 2016 thinking that if I could reinvent myself so profoundly, I could forever escape my past. But even after all these years it has become abundantly clear, that is impossible. There is no future that exists for me free of the markings of the past. So as I return to my home I know it is finally time to confront everything I've been desperately trying to evade.

I'm scared.

I’m scared that I’m not interesting.

I'm scared that if you spent more than a day with me My ideas would run dry

And you would leave me behind

Parching your thirst with anyone else

I'm scared to lay my head down.

To rest.

To relax.

To wait.

I’m scared that I’m not strong.

That I will cower in the face of true conflict.

My bravery only existing when left unchallenged.

I'm scared that I'm weak. My immune system overwhelmed by the slightest irregularity. I'm scared my legs are too frail. My knees capable of giving out at any moment.

I'm scared that when I do fall sick I will be left alone.

I'm scared that I'm not kind. I'm scared that maybe at the the core of everything I do I'm only self-interested. I'm scared that I only pretend to be cordial Too afraid to confront the side within That I know to be far more manipulative and calculating

I'm scared that I'm crazy.

Scared to admit that I've gotten too comfortable being alone.   

That in my attempts to run away from others

I have learned to sit in my own absurdity

In absolute isolation

That I have long forgotten what a home feels like.

I'm scared of presence.

I don't know how to ask my mind to be silent.

For even a few seconds.

I'm scared to exist without my inner best friend.

A person I can always turn to To disconnect.

I'm scared to dance in the rain.

I'm scared that I'm ugly.

I’m scared of honesty.

I'm scared my parents will never be proud of me. That all their fears will come true.

That I really am, a difficult child.

Only making their lives harder than it need be.

I'm scared to admit how poorly I've treated Amma.

How many times I left her waiting in the car

Patiently,

To pick me up from school.

I'm scared to admit how easily she's forgiven me.

I'm scared to feel how deep her love for me truly goes.

I'm scared that all my friendships are temporary.

That they'll all leave me.

For their own kids

spouses

careers.

I'm scared I'm not useful.

I'm scared I'm not competent.

I’m scared that even though I have these big goals for education

I’m just lying to myself

To feel like I’m doing something larger than I really am.

I'm scared that creatively I'm a fraud.

My aesthetic vision is mediocre.

My writing is uninspiring.

My podcast is boring.

My dancing is repetitive.

My ideas are copied.

My research is outdated.

My questions are already answered.

I’m scared I’m a terrible teacher.

That once my students know who I really am

They'll laugh

Never taking me seriously.

I’m scared that I will never have children.

I'm scared that even if I did, I'd be a terrible parent.

Too self-indulged To ever experience the true empathy

Needed to be decent father.

I’m scared to let go.

To have faith.

To believe.

To not know.

To be uncertain.

To sit in the dark.

I’m scared to fall in love

To hurt someone again.

I'm scared to be loved.

To be seen

To have my weaknesses known.

I'm scared to admit that everyone who has ever loved me romantically

   Has left

      Justifiably

I'm scared of intimacy.

To have sex.

To be held.

To hold eye contact.

To cry.

I'm scared to admit I have no idea of what I'm doing in bed

   Outside of what pornography taught me.

An addiction I've hidden, Secretly helping me cope with every difficult feeling

Since I was

10.

I'm scared to confront that I've been abusive to my partners

Emotionally

Physically

Intellectually

I'm scared to admit how many times I've made them cry

On days when they needed me most

I’m scared to admit that I’ve cheated.

That I am a homewrecker.

I'm scared that I don't know how to be accountable. To feel what they felt.

I'm scared I'll never be forgiven. That I don't deserve to be.

I'm scared that even though I say I have

I haven't really changed

Enough

I'm scared to admit that I was a bully.

That I made so many people feel small.

To soothe my fragile ego

Briefly.

I'm scared to admit that I have said

racist,

sexist,

homophobic,

bigoted

things

throughout my childhood.

And thought I was right.

I'm scared that I'll never know confidently

When I can say I am no longer that

person.

I'm scared to admit that I'm not a good person.

That I have always known evil within.

That all my efforts to be better now are just to console

Myself.

To seek redemption.

I'm scared to consider that maybe I've already made too many mistakes.

That there is no going back.

That my good will never outweigh the bad

I've already

caused.

I'm scared to confront my guilt.

I'm scared to admit that I act like the victim.

That maybe I want to blame my

education,

society,

parents,

So I can avoid taking any responsibility

For my decisions.

That it was

in fact

no one else's fault

but my own.

I'm scared of the path forward.

I'm scared I am no longer worthy of love.

I'm scared to look at myself in a mirror.

I'm scared of feeling happy

Until I make amends with every person I've hurt

For how else could it be fair?

I'm scared of dying.

I'm scared that this journey will be left unfinished.

With so many hanging stories.

I'm scared that I'll never know peace.

I’m scared that I’ll be hit by a car.

That my body is already in decline.

That I'll catch an unknown disease.

And spend my last days staring

Intently

At the light of an operating table.

Alone.

Forgotten.

I’m scared that I’m too lost.

To ever find my way back.

I’m scared of going home.

I’m scared that I don’t know what home is anymore.

I’m scared that when I stop running

I’ll have to confront

All that I’ve ever done.

I’m scared that the answers never existed outside.

In some foreign country.

In the arms of a stranger.

That they always were here.

In Fremont, California.

Teal Common.

I’m scared that the only way forward

Is through.

There is no escape.

I’m scared.

Goutham,

Will it get better?