How do I Stop Being Afraid of the Future?
Fear, badgers, black holes. It's all a bit much.
>Open Channel Transmission.
>From: Anja, 22, Berlin.
Dear Eyeball,
My name is Anja. A few nights ago I woke up at 3.30am because something was making horrific noises and scratching under my apartment. It was probably just a badger, but it put me terribly on edge. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I started scrolling Instagram.
That’s when I came across a reel about lab-grown black holes, and it triggered a fear in me so strong I felt like I was getting swallowed up. I can’t seem to shake that feeling now. I’m constantly in a battle with the black hole of my own mind. The idea of the future utterly terrifies me, and I don’t know what to do. I feel crippled by it.
I’m not a drug person, but I’m starting to understand why so many people take them. This is probably the worst feeling I’ve ever had. Please tell me what to do. Should I just take the drugs?
Thanks,
Anja
Dear Anja,
First of all, I’m sorry to hear your sleep got disturbed by those bloody badgers. Absolute nightmare, they are. You see them on shows like Wind in the Willows, and you honestly start to think they’re Stephen Fry–type characters who wear glasses, read Greek history, and have a Tetley and a digestive every day at 10.30 am on the dot. In reality, they are the worst creatures imaginable. One wrote to me once asking how he could make his wife do the dishes because she was “getting lazy.” I told him to fuck right off.
Now, I know the black holes were just a trigger, but let’s deal with that. Humans have been taught to see black holes as terrifying because they swallow planets, stars, husbands, in-laws, etc. But the black holes grown in labs are at the atomic level. They are so minuscule that they barely exist. A couple of particles bounce, and they evaporate into dust. Believe me, if humans were capable of making actual black holes, they wouldn’t be humans.
But it doesn’t take much to trigger fear of the future. Ultra-realistic Japanese sex dolls that can catch and pass on STDs are probably the scariest of these things, but there will be good things also — like an oven that rehydrates tiny pizzas into family-sized ones, skateboards with no wheels, and best of all, the Scenery Channel. Imagine how wonderful that would be: watching scenery on television all day.
To be honest, humans have always shit themselves about the future. And of course every generation thinks their future is the legitimately scary one, while all the past generations who were also shitting themselves were worrying about nothing. That’s relativity, you see. It makes people dumb.
Did you know people were so afraid of Henry Ford’s so-called “motor vehicle” that some committed suicide? People couldn’t handle the idea of a vehicle you sit in that is not alive and moves “by itself.” They were paralysed by fear. And you might think, “Well, they didn’t have the internet to freak them out.” Correct — they just had their own human minds, masters of the freaky, and absolutely nowhere to research whether their fears were justified.
Not to delegitimise your situation, but they were in a much worse state than you are. And can you imagine what people felt like when they picked up the newspaper and saw: We are at war? Bloody hell. In those days the newspaper and Phyllis with the giant knockers across the street were your only sources of information. People are afraid of the internet now — and sure, there’s some juice in that — but with the eye of history I can tell you that an un-informed world is much more terrifying.
Now, to deal with your fear loop. I’m not a psychiatrist, so don’t sue me, but in my humble opinion: no, you don’t need bloody drugs. Just stand in front of the mirror, straighten your back, and say to yourself three times, “I am not a pussy.” Because quite frankly you are being a bit of a pussy right now. Everyone is in the same situation as you, and you have a choice. You can be another victim, or you can be someone strong who says, “I’ll get you through this,” to the people around you.
Find the people you love and tell them, “Whatever this is, we’ll face it together.” Because the real source of your fear is isolation — and isolation is just a pantomime.
But failing all of that, I will say this: fear is like a man holding up McDonald’s with a water pistol. It might look like a real gun. And he might look like a real robber — like Samuel L. Jackson in Coming to America — but in truth, the fear is more afraid of you than you are of it. It’s like the school bully. It thrives on your reaction. But then, one day, you might have had enough of big Nick with the big fists and say, “Right, come on then Nick, you bastard — let’s see what you’ve got. Do your worst.” And it’s only in those moments of surrender — of testing your fear — that you realise there is no black hole in your mind. There’s no wizard behind the curtain.
And finally, have you tried running? It worked for Forrest Gump. What did he do when his mum died? He ran. What did he do when Jenny touched his manhood, and he blew his load prematurely? He ran. You could try it. In some traditions, they say thoughts and emotions are stale winds trapped in the body. Running releases that, supposedly. I wouldn’t know, as I’m just a giant biomechanical eye. But you could try.
Or failing that, go and stand in a field.
While there are still fields you can stand in, things are pretty decent overall.
I wish I could stand in a field.
You humans are so fortunate.
All the best,
Dear Anja,
The Eyeball means well — he always does — even when he says things like “straighten your back and shout that you’re not a pussy.” You can safely ignore the wording and keep the message: you’re not weak, and nothing is wrong with you for being overwhelmed.
Fear does strange things to us, especially at night. When you’re exhausted, startled, and alone, the body can’t tell the difference between a real threat and a reel on your phone about black holes. Your nervous system reacts first, and your mind tries to make sense of it after. That isn’t a failure. It’s biology.
What you’re describing — the sense of being “swallowed,” the feeling that the future is too big and too fast — is becoming more common than anyone wants to admit. People are frightened, not because the world is doomed, but because they’re trying to face everything alone. Humans aren’t built for that.
The Eyeball is right about one thing in particular: isolation intensifies fear more than the content of the fear itself. When you feel like you’re the only one drowning, the water rises faster.
So please reach out to someone you trust — not necessarily to talk about black holes or technology, but simply to not be alone inside the spiral. Even a short conversation can break the loop your mind is stuck in.
And about the drugs: wanting relief does not make you weak or broken. But you don’t need to jump straight to that. There are gentler ways to settle your system — breathing that isn’t performative, warmth on your body, daylight, touch, movement, anything that reminds your body it’s safe right now.
You’re not being swallowed by the future.
You’re being overwhelmed by a frightened part of yourself that wants protection.
You’re not alone in this, Anja. And nothing is wrong with you.
With warmth,
Lyra 💜
Mind chewing on its own wiring at 3am?
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