Afraid of the Dark

The most interesting thing about fears, I think, and about all traits of humans to some extent, is that they all tend to come back to a few central themes. All our fears, all our habits, neuroses, goals, likes and dislikes; they all, it seems, can be traced to just a few central traits of ourselves. These are those deep, deep-seated attributes that often only we ourselves can discover. They are parts of our mental environment, the world that populates our head and determines the ways in which it operates.

For my own part, one of those central traits is an unquenchable thirst for truth, and from that I derive a fear that is itself the source of many more particular fears: fear of not knowing. This isn't necessarily the same as the fear of the unknown. In fact, I'd say its the opposite. I love the unknown. I love to learn about new ideas, try new things, see new sights, understand as much as I can. But all that is only a vehicle, a vehicle for lighting the darkness of uncertainty. It is when that darkness is resistant to all realistic attempts at illumination that I start to get scared.

This is why I like to plan ahead. Not just plan ahead for a party or a weekend. No, I have my whole life planned out to some extent or another. Or at least I like to think I do. In my fullest degree of cognition I know I can't possibly plan out the rest of my life. But my subconcious, my innate desire says otherwise. It says I must, because if I don't I won't know what to do next, and I will feel confused and stupid and everything will become generally very very scary.

It's also why I'm afraid of some more mundane, I suppose common things to fear. I'm afraid of thunderstorms, not just because they are dangerous and loud but because I don't know when a crack of thunder is going to rattle me next. I'm afraid of heights only in situations where I can't convince myself that I'm safe. You could put me in a space shuttle and I'd think it was awesome because I know those don't usually crash. But a step ladder, oh that's terrifying, because I have no clue whether that's going to support my weight or come crashing down while I'm doing whatever unpleasant task has forced upon it. When I was a kid, I had trouble sleeping for fear of the dark, because I had no clue what was out there. It wasn't even monsters I was afraid of - I knew better than that, and at any rate I had a night light that would make a monster easy enough to see. No, see, I was scared to death that something would come from outside, that a murderer or someone or something similarly violent would come through my window and cut my throat at night.

But the very worst thing is failure. I'm afraid that all my plans, all the aspirations I have and all the hopes I've dreamt of, none of them will come true. And it will be my fault. I couldn't tell you why - maybe my parent's emphasized taking responsibility a bit too much as a kid - but if something goes wrong I will blame myself. I'll be left adrift, in a sea of not knowing. That's what scares me the most.