By Youth Ambassador, Madison Palacios Vera
You sit down to write, perhaps to create something that once brought you joy. Yet, as you do, a feeling begins to creep in, insidious and unshakeable, lurking just behind you. You can't see it, but you can certainly feel its cold, heavy presence—always watching, always waiting.
It starts with a whisper—soft and almost imperceptible at first. The longer you sit, the louder it grows, filling your mind with words you wish you could ignore: “Not good enough… Do it again… You’ll fail.” As these whispers grow, so does the weight pressing down on your shoulders. Your fingers freeze above the keyboard, your pen pauses mid-sentence. It’s as if something is observing you, ready to attack at your first misstep.
The room darkens despite the lights being on; shadows stretch unnaturally across the walls. Every sound becomes distant as if you’re slipping into a different realm where this presence feeds on your hesitation, on your fear—stealing your breath away, making you feel so small. You strive to push through, to focus, but each time you think you’ve made progress, the whispers return, harsher now: “You’re wasting your time… No one will care… This is wrong… You’ll never get it right.”
It feels inescapable—a shadow that desperately clings to you, tightening its grip. You cannot run, nor hide from it. And the worst part? You don’t even know what it is.
But you can feel it, can’t you? The chill in your bones. It craves your failure, thrives on your self-doubt. The more you create, the stronger it becomes; the more you hesitate, the closer it gets.
You turn around, steeling yourself to confront it, whatever it may be. And then you see it for what it truly is: a monster that has fed on your doubts, creeping closer with every second you spend chasing the impossible.
My monster? Perfectionism. It has haunted me for as long as I can remember, whispering incessantly, pointing out every flaw, dismantling each attempt I make. It’s the voice that insists what I’ve done is never enough, that I must try harder, that mistakes are intolerable. It clings to me, feeding on my fear of failure and the unrelenting pressure to always achieve perfection.
But here’s the truth: I’m not alone in facing my monster. We all harbor something that rises up in our darkest hours, something that steals our sleep and whispers insidiously when we’re most vulnerable. Perhaps your monster wears a different mask.
Maybe your monster is anxiety, gripping you tightly whenever you try something new. It makes your heart race, your hands sweat, and fills your mind with every worst-case scenario imaginable. Every action feels like a risk, every decision a trap.
For some, it might be the fear of rejection, that monster holding you back from putting yourself out there—telling you that if you try, you’ll only get hurt. It looms over you in social situations, pushing you to stay silent and small because, what if no one likes you?
Or perhaps you wrestle with not just one, but a web of monsters from the past, reminding you of mistakes, casting shadows over every decision. Maybe the ghost or shadow of a person follows you, lingering in your mind, replaying moments of pain or doubt, holding you back as their grip remains on you, as if their words still echo in your ear, shaping how you see yourself.
And that’s okay. None of this is your fault. These monsters aren’t born from nowhere. They come from deep within us, shaped by our individual experiences, by the things we’ve endured, by the world we’ve inhabited. They’re rooted in our environment, the pressures we’ve faced, the people we’ve met, the voices that have spoken into our lives.
We didn’t invite them, but they crept in regardless. They’ve grown strong, feeding on every ounce of uncertainty. We all have monsters, whether they stem from fear, anxiety, self-doubt, or pressure from others. The important thing to remember is that you aren’t alone in this, and you don’t have to bear the burden by yourself.
As we approach this haunting season filled with fictional monsters and nightmarish dreams, many may feel the weight of their fears and anxieties. While children celebrate in their costumes and trick-or-treating, we might also find ourselves reflecting on the monsters that creep into our minds.
These monsters slip through the cracks of our thoughts, born from our unique experiences, expectations, and the cultural environment that shapes us. The intrusive thoughts and fears can overwhelm us, causing us to miss out on the simple pleasures of life and true happiness.
Unlike horror movies that leave us clinging to our seats, filled with suspense and tension, where the villains and monsters never truly die, our internal monsters are different. They are tangible fears, doubts, and memories that we can face and overcome. We must approach this with compassion and empathy as we delve into the depths of our experiences and confront the shadows we’ve often avoided. Unlike the protagonists in those scary movies, we have the power to defeat our monsters. We can emerge victorious, reclaiming our lives, and finding peace in the process.
It’s about standing together and recognizing that these monsters are not ours to bear alone. When we confront them with courage and delicacy, we open the door to healing.
As we face our fears this Halloween, remember: let’s carve out our path, shining light on the shadows. Life is too precious to be haunted by them. Taking a bite out of our fears, and keeping our spirits alive, we are not just the sum of our fears—we are the masterpieces we create, imperfections and all.
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