The Fear Beneath the Fear
I’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately.
Not because of one big event,
but because of this slow, persistent tension I can’t seem to shake.
I just went to get some medical tests.
I know I’ll need long-term medication.
I also know it probably won’t be subsidized — not in Taiwan, anyway.
I don’t know how much it’ll cost.
I don’t know what procedures are involved.
I don’t know if I can access the same care if I go travelling.
All of it feels heavy.
But the weight isn’t just practical.
It’s emotional.
Needing something long-term — whether it’s treatment, care, or support —
that’s what scares me the most.
Not the process. But the feeling of:
“I can’t do this alone…
And I don’t know if help will come.”
That’s when something clicked.
I’d known that feeling before. In a different way.
Of someone who, on the outside, looked like the person I wanted to become —
🌈 colourful dreads,
🚐 living in a van,
🎨 engineering art,
💃 dancing under the stars.
Someone who seemed completely immune to social norms,
and free to express themselves.
I met him through Tinder.
He pulled away.
No explanation. No closure… just silence.
And I still want to believe it wasn’t because I wasn’t enough.
I want to believe he was just emotionally unavailable.
Because if that’s true,
then the problem wasn’t me.
But if he could choose — and didn’t —
that hurts more than anything.
And I see the link.
The fear of not being chosen.
Not being helped.
Having to carry it all alone,
while others seem to just… get what they need.
The Dream I’m Still Holding
I started thinking about Berlin.
About studying dance.
About a life that feels more like me.
Visa rules, health systems, costs, timelines —
all tangled like a thread I don’t know how to unwind.
I don’t just want the dream —
I want to feel held inside it.
Like I don’t have to white-knuckle it all the way there.
A Voice I Needed
This morning, I imagined the version of me who feels supported.
She walks in the morning.
She stretches. Sings. Eats slowly.
She wears clothes that feel like her.
She’s not rushing to solve everything.
She knows she’s allowed to want.
And she said to me:
“Don’t worry. Everything will work out.
You’ve tried your best.”
And something in my chest softened.
I don’t know what will happen.
But I think I needed to write this down.
🔍 The Insight
Sometimes it’s not the fear of the illness,
or the dream,
or the person.
It’s the fear of not being met.
Of not being chosen.
Of doing life without backup.
That’s the ache beneath the ache.
And for today,
I’m letting that be seen.
🧡
