We Cannot Run From Ourselves

About trauma, depression, and other monsters that nest inside our heads.

After watching a film—about a school shooting in America—I was moved to write about this.

The main character experienced anxiety after the shooting incident. Several of their friends died. They kept being haunted by the terrifying situation, when gunshots echoed throughout the school corridors. Afterward, they went through their days with great difficulty.

Looking back a year ago, I experienced what could be called a strange anxiety. About what? About something that many people look forward to, associating it with beauty. People commonly call it: the sunset.

Yes. I am not joking. When the sky turned yellow and the day grew dark, I suddenly felt a deep sadness. Don't ask why, I don't know either. But I'm certain, it was part of a sadness I had once felt, though I couldn't quite remember why.

Especially if the sunset was accompanied by rain or drizzle, I was done, I was shattered. I was afraid to look outside. I was afraid to feel the sadness. Usually I tried to distract myself during those hours, so the sadness wouldn't feel as intense.

Fortunately, as time passed, I no longer feel those feelings. I can now look at the sunset with ordinary feelings.

I am indeed afraid of being chased by a tiger, but I am more afraid when there is fear nesting inside my head. In the case of the tiger, I can run, hide, or escape to another world. But when I—unintentionally—store fear in my own head, where can I go?

We cannot run from ourselves. It can come at any time, haunting as it pleases.