I am deeply and intensely afraid of conflict. I'm afraid of other people not being happy with me, I'm afraid of people yelling at me while I just stand there, helplessly stumbling over my words as I try to defend myself, my actions, or my reasons. I'm afraid of being wrong, of letting people down, of hurting someone else. I am afraid.

What do you do when you care so deeply about someone, but a little thing they do bothers you? Or someone you don't know makes you uncomfortable? Anything happens that you disagree with?

When something like that happens, I sit on it. I analyze the other person's emotions, understand what they're feeling, then excuse whatever they said that hurt my feelings. They're tired, they didn't mean it, it was just a joke, they're having a bad day. They care about me and didn't intend for it to hurt me, so I will just shake it off.

Develop a thicker skin. You have a sibling, so you should be used to siblings fighting. It was just a joke, I didn't mean it that way.

I'm good at apologizing. I'd rather take the blame and do what I can to mend my mistake. I'll do whatever it takes to keep the relationship happy. I'll change whatever I need to to make the other person happy, so that they can be happy, and if they're happy then I'm happy.

It's so tiring.

It's tiring to keep all these feelings bottled up and furiously trying to calm them, to rationalize the situation until it becomes logical instead of emotional. Like stirring a pot to cool it down before the soup boils over the edge.

I'm physically afraid of conflict. I get a deep knot in my stomach and my hands get clammy; the blood drains from my face and my chest feels tight. I can anticipate it, I can feel the fear setting in. I feel it before someone comes to talk to me, to chew me out, to lecture me, to explain how they're not happy with me. I feel it in my whole body, a feeling that's purely fear.

Bitter memories like feeling the dread set in when my father read my progress import in 11th grade. I scraped by with a C+ in Pre-calculus. When an ex-friend said mean things about myself and our other friends, there was a late-night talk with sharing of feelings. I sat on the sofa and gripped my then-cold hands.Getting pulled out of class in my freshman year of high school because I yelled at a kid to shut up. He kept calling the girl next to me "stupid." My friend telling me I said something that I hurt her feelings. I was terrified that she wouldn't want to be my friend anymore, and I my pain echoed the kind that she felt.

It's the feelings of dread, of guilt, of fear that burrow deep in my heart, ready to rise up when someone tells me that I did something wrong. That I messed up, that I said something that wasn't right, that whatever.

Good luck with trying to tell people that I'm hurt, that I'm uncomfortable, that I'm angry I'm sad I disagree. I can't do it. Because they'll defend themselves and I can't. Because when the other person defends themselves--if they just respond and say I'm wrong--my brain sees it as an attack and it says you're the one who's wrong. Then the feeling comes in. My stomach clenches, my throat goes dry, my hands and face drain of color. I can't do it.

I'm so afraid of that feeling that I will stand on my own heart if I have to. I'm so afraid that I will run away nine times out of ten to avoid having to face any kind of conflict.

It's so tiring.