Spooky Thoughts: The Fear of Being Alone


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I have many fears. Some of them are irrational, like my fear of daddy longlegs (don’t ask) and my general fear of failure. Some are rooted in the unknown, like my fear of the future and my fear of death. But some come from a deep-seated feeling of general insecurity. 

That’s where my fear of being alone comes in. 

This fear, of course, goes along with my fear of people leaving. It’s also easy to trace back where it came from, my mother left us kids over and over again throughout my childhood for other people. Every time she left I was worried that that would be the time that she wouldn’t come back. 

Over the years I’ve learned that people come and go out of your life without so much as a hello. Or they stay and become such a part of your life that you can’t remember what it was like without them. 

Sometimes they leave and take parts of you with them and you’re left trying to fill the holes within yourself. That part, that part is what I’m afraid of. That I’ll depend so much on someone that they’ll leave me with only pieces of myself when they’re gone. 

That I’ll be left as a shell of myself, and isn’t that the scariest thing? Not being your whole self in the face of your future. Standing with the possibility of crumbling in on yourself like some old-world construction.

Due to this fear, I distance myself from people. Avoid making new close friends. But, let’s be honest, that’s a lonely existence. Hell,  I don’t know if this fear will ever come true. I enjoy being with people, so why devoid myself of that? 

Depending on possibilities gets you nowhere. All it does is cause you to miss out on good relationships and opportunities. And what’s the point in stopping yourself from enjoying things just because you might get hurt? If I stopped myself from doing things in fear of getting hurt, whether that be physically or emotionally, I wouldn’t do anything. 

That being said, what am I left with when I’m alone? My insecurities come into play here, my questioning of whether I’m enough for people, am I enough for myself? Do I have a choice when it comes to being enough for myself? I have to be don’t I? In order to truly be comfortable with being me. 

That’s what I’m afraid of I suppose, not being enough for myself. Because, well, where do I go from there? Do I lower my expectations or do I rise to the occasion? It’s difficult to decide and I’m terrible at making decisions.

In saying all of these things, I must admit that I’m facing my fear. I’m living alone for the first time in my life in a tiny one-room apartment that’s too small for my cat. I’ve been left with myself and I feel…content. 

I don’t feel disappointed in myself, frustrated sometimes yes, but not disappointed. My expectations have changed for the better, I think. I didn’t lower them necessarily, I just modified them. Created a realistic set of expectations that I can reach. 

What I’ve found is that being alone isn’t so bad. It’s nice, it helps you learn to appreciate yourself, but only if you’re willing to take the steps towards doing so. 

If you hate yourself and you’re alone, it’s not going to be a good time for you. That’s why I was so afraid of being alone because I knew that I wouldn’t be happy with just myself if I didn’t like myself. In becoming more comfortable with myself, I have become less afraid of being left and being alone.