BEDA 5: The Nature of Fear

Right now, I'm sitting on the swinging bench in my front lawn. It's about eighty five degrees out, theres a light breeze wafting the smell of drying laundry my direction, and the swinging of the bench is lulling me into a placid sort of comfort. It's nice.

I have this problem. I'm a pretty sounds sleeper, and more so, I am very skilled at waking up just enough to do what I have to do, and then falling asleep. I have a tendency of telling people that I'm awake and doing what I'm supposed to do and then having no recollection of it when I actually do wake up. I also have a tendency of turning off my alarm clock before I can wake up enough to even realize that it's going off.

That happened this morning. I went to bed around two in the morning, which is pretty average for me. I had set my alarm clock for 8:11, because I needed to be at the doctor's by eight forty-five, and I have this neuroticism where I can't set any sort of timer or alarm to a multiple of five. I guess it just seems more natural that way or something. Like, if we were to actually try to wake up at a specific moment, we wouldn't wake up at exactly eight o'clock. And it doesn't really take those corn dogs exactly two minutes to cook in the microwave. They just tell you that because saying that you should microwave them for two minutes and seven seconds would be weird. But I digress.

My point is, I turned my alarm clock off while I was still asleep, and I slept through my appointment. Which isn't okay, but isn't that big of a deal either, because I called and rescheduled.

Also, I went out to eat with my grandma today. It was really nice to spend time with her, and I think I'd enjoy having her around quite a bit if I put more effort into spending time with her, which is sort of a shame. I really do regret not realizing how much I appreciate her until now. Because really, she means a lot to me, and I'm going to miss her quite a bit once I go to college.

That sort of brings us to the topic that my little BEDA family came across last night when we were planning for today. Boggarts, patronuses, and amortentia. I'm going to give each one its own blog post, I think, and today I'm going to focus on my boggart.

I've never really feared death. At least, not in the conventional way. I'm not entirely sure why this is, but the thought of my own passing has never been something to bother me. It could be because I was raised in such a religious household, or it could be because of my issues with self-appreciation. Either way, I've never struggled with accepting the fact that I will die. Instead, I have immense difficulty wrapping my mind around the fact that every person I love will someday pass through my fingers. I am deeply afraid of losing those I love, whether it be to death or other devices.

I think this is due to the fact that I have lost many people that I care about because I was ignorant and selfish. Now, I've never had anyone I love die, which probably contributes in its own way. But I have pushed numerous friends out of my life as a result of my own social issues. And I know very well that I don't always appreciate people as much as I should - or at least, I don't show it. Which I'm working on, but anyways...

I guess my fear operates along the basis that I have such strong emotional attachments to each of these people, and I don't want to lose them without them fully knowing how much I care. The problem is, no one can ever know the true impact they have on others. I could never do enough to show how much I care, and actions speak so much louder than words.

Days until college: Nine

Last video watched: Happy Birthday Esther! by A. Slack

Last song scrobbled: "The Friends" by Nicholas Hooper (The HBP soundtrack.)