Sometimes I feel like things are going well and then I get blindsided by an intrusive thought that leaves me reeling for days.
Sometimes I’m paralyzed by the idea that I’ll never amount to anything and that I’m wasting my time trying like this. I spiral wondering about all the opportunities that I squandered or misused.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m happy with the person I became, or if I’m just not happy with the person I was. I know I grew a lot as a person, especially over the past five or so years. But it seems like I can’t have a positive revelation without the monsters that live in my mind going ballistic as they spew hate at me.
I want to be happy with the person that I am and the person I will become. But I don’t want to discount the person I was before either. I had to be her to become who I am now and who I will continue to be.
Sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes the monsters are asleep or preoccupied with other things so I’m able to live an okay life and do the things I want to without them knawing at my self-worth and pride. Other times, the only reason I’m able to force myself out of bed through their hate, power, and oppression is my pets relying on me.
I have cages to clean and dogs to feed and exercise. They don’t know about the monsters, they just love me and bring me joy. I don’t think they know fully how much they fight them back every day for me.
Sometimes I open up to others about the monsters too. Or at least I try to. Sometimes they don’t get it, or at least don’t get the full scope of it. They think they’re little gremlins that thrash around and are more of a nuisance to me than anything. Most people don’t understand that they are the monsters under the bed. So impossibly large there is no way they can fit there but by the power of dark magic, they can. They are the shadow hand that reaches in the dark when you know there is something there but know there is no way anyone could be there. They are the creature outside your window staring at you waiting for their opportunity to creep inside and consume you. They are the feeling you are being watched or followed but every time you turn around there is nothing there. They are the ever-creeping despair that settles in your bones at every bad thing that you hear happen in the world.
My monsters are deceiving too. Sometimes they come to me wearing the masks of sadness. Or uncertainty. Sometimes, when they feel particularly malicious, they come to me with pretty faces and soft hands and whisper sweet things to me, like how I’m lovely and sweet, smart and kind. And just as I’m beginning to believe them I’m dragged down into the depths of despair where I’m towered over by all of them and made to feel even smaller than I ever had.
It’s not easy to make me feel small. I stand at 5’10”, or 175 cm. I am not a small woman, and I’ve learned to lean into my height and feel good in it. Feeling small isn’t something I’m used to or even let happen without a fight.
Sometimes I wonder if I can ever defeat the monsters or if they’ll always be there. Stronger and bigger than me, always undefeated.
Maybe one day I will be able to take them on, either by myself or with lots of help. I don’t know. Maybe instead of fighting them, I think more often, I can invite them in and have a cup of tea with them. Ask them why they haunt me and never let me rest. See if there is any peace we can come to. I’ve come to realize recently that just because something is uncomfortable doesn’t make it bad.
And while my monsters certainly make me uncomfortable, I also feel like they’ve been around for so long I can’t imagine my life without them. I don’t think they need to leave, not yet anyway. I may still have things to learn from them. But I hope that we can maybe work together.
I might be tired of fighting my monsters, but I’m not tired of fighting.
T.R.FlynnOfficial 