Fear itself

These things I fear:
Alternately, success and failure.  I suffer from a horrendous case of inertia because of this.  If I do something, I might succeed, but if I do something, I might fail.  So, I do nothing.

I fear being left alone.  I fear never being left alone.

We can see where this is going...

I fear being right.  And wrong.

I fear I may not be who I think I am and that I am certainly not who others think I am.  Frankly, I am terrified of the possibility that I actually am what some think I am.  I fear never becoming who I hope to be; who I expect myself to be. Even worse, I fear I am becoming my mother.

I fear I will never catch up.  With what, you ask?  Pick something.  Anything.  I'm sure it's on my list.

I so very much fear this could be all I am capable of.  What if it is?  What then?

I fear my imagination far surpasses my abilities.

I fear discovering exactly what makes me happy because, what if it is not what I have?  What then?  Of course, I fear never being happy.  That then leads me to fear I might not be capable of being happy, which leads me straight into the fear I am making everyone around me as miserable as I am.

Mostly, I fear myself, and that of which I am both capable, and most likely incapable.