I am Scared | Teen Ink

I am Scared

May 24, 2011
By MissArcher BRONZE, N. Bonneville, Washington
MissArcher BRONZE, N. Bonneville, Washington
2 articles 2 photos 2 comments

I am scared.
Scared for the people I love
Scared of the unknown things taking place

Scared of death,
Of living,
Of trusting,
Of getting my heart broke,
Of losing someone,
And it hurting beyond belief because I let them in

Why do we suffer?
Why does God allow,
These things called pain and violence?
Why are people cruel?
Why can’t we do the things we love?

Why am I writing this?
Why am I writing this?
Why am I writing this?
Why am I writing this?

I shouldn’t be.
Why can’t I just trust?
Why do I break down every time something hard come my way?
Why does it feel so good to blame God for all the bad things?
Why is nothing happening like I want it to?
Why are my parent’s my parents?
When they say go have fun and enjoy your childhood,
Do they turn around the next moment and tell me,
That I can’t do the things I love?

Why are people I love getting sick?
Why is cancer so murderous?
Why can’t I stop things from hurting the ones I love?
Why can’t I just rely on God to pull me through this mess?
Why is life so complicated?
Why do we have free-will?
Why did God give us that option?
People we love ruin their lives because of this “free-will”.

Why are the few people I trust,
The ones who get hurt,
The ones who seem the farthest away?

Why is my life falling apart again?

Why am I so insecure with myself?

Why can’t I see the beauty in the simple things anymore?
Why has every emotional taxing thing,
Left me feeling like I can’t go on?
Like I can’t move?
Like I can’t love?
Like I can’t do everything people expect me to do?
Like I am drowning in a pit that is too high to climb?
A pit that I can see the top of,
And it is just out of reach?

Why do I not have the peace that I had a week ago?
Before this whole mess started?

I can’t sing,
Don’t have the strength.
I can’t work,
I get headaches and I get dizzy.
I can’t play,
I am too busy with school.
I can’t have fun with my friends,
Because of school and things my parents sign me up for.
I can’t be myself,
It is just too scary to see me grow up.
I can’t act my age,
Because I am treated like I am 5 or I am expected to act like an adult.

I am tired of fighting!
Fighting to stay in this game we call life.
Fighting to keep a smile on my face, and tears out of my eyes.
Fighting to prove to people that I am dependable, that I am responsible.
Fighting to keep those around me safe, and doing a poor job of it.

I am tired of fighting a losing battle.
Tired of trying to keep up with the life of sports and animals.
Tired of seeing other kids my age doing things that I would love to be doing,
And yet,
I am never there.
I am tired of blending into the walls.
Tired of watching other girls go by,
And as soon as they think I am out of earshot,
Giggling about my clothes,
My hair,
And giggling about me in general.

I want to fit in,
I really do.
But I am a Christian.
Christians are labeled.
Christians are laughed at,
Don’t fit in,
Can’t be in a group.
And if I dare take a stand,
I get laughed at,
Put down,
Made more fun of,
And because I am a farm girl/redneck hillbilly,
It is even worse.
The more of a girl I try to be,
The worse it gets.
I can’t win. I can’t go on.
I can’t fight.
I can’t keep my head above water.

I should have known this was coming.
To many months of happiness,
Followed by destruction of my life.

As soon as my life takes 1 step towards better,
It tanks and takes 3 steps back.
I can’t do it anymore.
If I don’t stop,
I am going to scream.
I would now,
But I can barely finish typing this up,
I am so emotionally drained.

I look at the stories of suicide, drugs, and drinking.
I look at them and wonder,
What were you like before you let this overtake you?
How great was your life?
Why would you ruin it with that stuff?

Why am I writing this?
Why can’t I accept that God knows what He is doing?
Why am I writing this?
Why am I so scared???

The author's comments:
I wrote this after several people who are like my family were diagnosed with cancer and other things. When I wrote this I was going through a really rough time. Just like David, the Psalmist, I write better when I am upset or something is going on.

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