Remnants of Fear

Yemenat

Ahmed Saif Hashed

I feel confusion and embarrassment wash over me. I watch my voice tremble, its tones disrupted, its flow lost. It seems as if the inhabitants of the earth are observing my faltering, stammering voice, while my breaths race against one another, akin to an unprecedented marathon. A wave of anxiety grips me, making me feel as if my vocal cords are tearing apart in the face of an insurmountable storm.

My weary soul feels frayed under the piercing gaze of those who watch me or follow my anxious speech. The beats of my heart escalate, leading me to believe my spirit might escape from my mouth. Perhaps I even sweat, no matter how cold the weather may be. Overall, I feel a profound disarray akin to an earthquake measuring eight on the Richter scale.

Dr. Dean Burnett’s insights in his book, The Idiot Brain, resonate with the phobia and feelings that have plagued me at times. Burnett cites examples of individuals afflicted by anxiety—one of whom I closely relate to—who would rather wrestle a wild cat than sing karaoke. They would prefer to handle live explosives than perform in front of an audience. If given the choice between singing and wrestling, they would undoubtedly choose the latter.

* * *

I have repeatedly failed in love due to the overwhelming weight of my shyness and fear. I have lost more than one love in my life, living out an incomplete romance, simmering on a hot plate. I have been scorched by the repetition of my many disappointments. Countless dreams have evaporated because of this shyness and anxiety that have consumed me for years. Perhaps I have also squandered numerous opportunities that could have transformed my life. Shocks and disappointments have driven their stakes deep into my