Alright, day one! Starting off easy, with something I am familiar writing about. I enjoy writing about dreams because they fascinate me and genuinely change who I am.
My greatest fear stems from a dream. It happened when I was younger, maybe 9 or 10. In the dream I was at my parents house and it was Thanksgiving. All of my cousins were there with me in the front room while all the adults were at the table in another room. The front door was propped open by a stool. On the stool was a small beetle and as I approached it, it grew larger and larger. None of my cousins saw as it picked me up a flew away with me. I was terrified but I could not utter a sound. I could do nothing to alert anyone to my danger.
It’s amazing that I can still recall this, but to this day I am unsure if I would be able to scream if I am in danger. It makes me feel vulnerable, and not in the way where I am scared to let people in. Maybe I make up for it now by being a loud person; if you can’t hear me, something must be wrong.
But dreams have also empowered me, and shown me the goodness deep down inside. So I keep a dream journal and try to fight my fear to stop it from ever becoming a reality.