there’s so much to be afraid of,
so many things that can kill you
and even more that will destroy you
without ever hurting your body
kids can be afraid —
someone will protect them
but what does an adult do
when they’re facing down the darkness?
do we hug our pillows and pray?
do we cry alone at the end
of a never-ending day?
fear as an adult is called phobia,
and you’ll be called irresponsible
if you fail to face it…
fear as an adult will loosen your grip
on reality — you’ll be called anxious
and people will ask you
if you’re okay — but having another adult
say I’m worried about you
doesn’t make any of the fear go away
grown-ups don’t run from monsters,
and most of us don’t need
nightlights in our rooms…
the realest terrors come in the daytime
when a man in an expensive suit looks at you the wrong way
or when digits in a bank account are fewer
than expected — when fluorescent lights flicker, baby
and it makes you want to faint
so have your seizure,
down the pills,
gulp that pretty pink Pepto,
and wash your organs
in some pharmaceutical juice
but fear as an adult is always there…
all we can do is be naked,
trembling,
and with eyes open,
walk through it
Garbage Notes:
This one is about anxiety, plain and simple. And how fear takes on a very different sort of flavor when you’re a grown-up than it does when you’re a child. It’s less about things that can actually kill you and more about the sorts of things that might totally fuck up your life.
Whether it’s the wrong kind of people or making the wrong sorts of commitments—fear as an adult wreaks havoc on your decision-making. Causes you to doubt yourself. Makes you feel small and inadequate and ineffectual. It has more to do with the things you need to live—like money, and staying healthy, and taking care of those around you.
There’s also a sort of meta-fear that no one ever told you could happen—the fear of being afraid… getting anxious about the fact that you get anxious. Or worrying that others can tell that you’re worrying. It becomes like this thing that feeds into itself, and is exacerbated by other people knowing about it.
The whole thing that people say—where they go, oh don’t be scared. Don’t be afraid. There’s nothing that’s gonna hurt you. Or when they’re like, hey, I’m worried about you. Is everything OK? Well, the thing is, people who have fear, have enough of it. They don’t need you to add to their burden by you telling them you’re worried about them. That’s like a person carrying around a giant heavy backpack, and they can barely walk, and then you don’t like seeing them struggle, so you just throw some more heavy shit in their arms for them to carry—which, obviously makes no sense.
Anyway, this isn’t the sort of thing I like to write about or dwell on—it’s really best to just be in the moment and focus on the here and now, and not let this sort of stuff prevent you from doing your thing. And my thing is writing poetry and fiction, and turning the struggle into something beautiful, or maybe even useful. That’s what I try to do. That’s what I hope I did here with this prose poem.
Writing about it always helps, and usually if I’m working, then it means my mind isn’t worrying.
Franco Amati 2023
Great poem on how we do our best, as adults, to deal with the struggles of life and our anxiety. Thanks, Franco.
Appreciated your take on fear and stress. I think many people feel it.