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Monday, September 1, 2003


   Scared...
I just came from my room at an itty bitty hotel. I have no pen and paper journal with me, so I thought Iīd write here.

I was going to go to the beach with my mother and her retreat group, but I told her I wasnīt sure, and they left.

In every group, I want to be invited, but I make the group work to invite me to be sure Iīm wanted. As a result, Iīm never in a group. I push people away from the start, so that Iīll never be regected.

I am very lonely here. I hate my mother for making me come. Even more for not letting me spend what time I can at this computer, where I can at least express myself and connect to civilization.

When I made my way back to my room, I went out to our small balcony. Then, I stood on a chair and tried to get up onto the railing. But I couldnīt do it. I was just too scared.

I once read/heard thet fear is a good thing, that it tells people whatīs bad for them, that it makes them stronger. But it is definitely limiting. One who is truly fearless can do anything. Of course, thatīs what Iīm scared of.

Fearlessness completely frees a person of limits, and in some ways, of all common sense. A person who is afraid of nothing can do anything. And very often, they will.

I have often said to myself that I am not afraid of dying, merely of the pain that it may cause my loved ones. But lately, I am wondering if they love me back. As I said, I often push people away, to the point that they simply stop trying. I am too scared to be alone, too scared to be accepted.

Too afraid to die, too afraid to live.

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