You don’t think I know that?
You don’t think that I realise I have nothing to be afraid of?
You don’t think I realise that nothing in my life is bad? That I have it pretty good by all accounts, even my own?
So why do you continue to tell me to just get over things? To just do things?
It’s very obvious that I don’t need to be afraid. I don’t need to be scared of everything, I can do anything I put my mind to. I realise this.
But it doesn’t make it any easier.
There’s that nagging voice at the back of my head that tells me everything I do will fail, that everything I want to do can never be achieved. And I can’t stop hearing it.
So I drown it out. I watch countless videos I’ve seen hundreds of times. I listen to music, I play video games, I read web comics, I scour Facebook for any article that might be even slightly interesting to distract myself from the voice in the back of my head.
The more I distract myself, the louder he gets, because he hates being ignored. So I do more, and more, and more. I play games while listening to videos I’ve heard countless times. I read in one window while playing in another. I do so many things at once to ignore the voice in the back of my head. The one that tells me everything I want is unattainable.
But he keeps coming back.
I know for a fact that if I really wanted to, I could have a job by the end of the week. That it would take me half an hour to get online and sign up for a course to study. And I know I could physically do those things.
But every time I think about those things, the voice pops up.
“You don’t want to do them though. You can’t do them. They’re too hard. Everything you try will fail.”
So I stop.
I stop thinking about getting a job. I stop thinking about studying. I stop thinking about talking to others.
I stop thinking at all.
Because he’s a part of my head, and he only has a voice when I think.
If I stop thinking, so does he.
When I sleep, he’s there. My brain starts working and it puts into motion all the things I want to do; my literal dreams.
Then the voice comes along and knocks each one down.
“What? No, you can’t talk to her, you idiot. She probably hates you anyway, so don’t bother. What do you mean get a job? You had a job once and you hated it. Stop thinking of that. Study? You spent thirteen years of your life studying. What a waste of time it was. What did you learn? What did you gain? What can you gain from studying more?”
So I wake up, just as bad as when I went to sleep, if not worse. So the first thing I do, is put on some video that I’ve seen countless times and I zone out.
I stop thinking. If I stop thinking, he stops talking.
And I don’t understand why it is so hard to ignore him. If I wanted to, I could go and get a job. I could study. I could talk to my friends. I could talk to people who I want to be my friends. I could talk to that one person I really want to talk to.
But I don’t. Because that little fuck keeps talking.
He prays upon every part of me that I hate. He latches to my apathy. To my anger. To my lust. To my envy. My greed. My desires. My pride. He uses each of them against me by making me think that those are all I have.
I’ve been happy before. I know without a doubt. I have laughed, smiled, I’ve had fun. But he makes me think those things never existed; that the only things that exist are the crap filling up my thoughts.
The anger I feel to everyone for no reason.
The envy for those that have what I don’t.
The lustful thoughts that swirl around my head.
The apathy that holds me back when I try to move forward.
The greed that sees me take more than I give.
The desires that sees me consume without end.
The pride I once felt coming back to haunt me.
It all deepens this hatred that I have for the person that I see when I look in the mirror. It’s so hard to break free of that. I try, I do.
But it seems that trying is not enough.
I take steps. I tell myself when I feel happy. I say, “I feel happy”. So I know that I definitely feel happy, even for the three milliseconds that it lasts. So I know, that there is something good in my life.
And there is. From an objective view, everything in my life is great.
I have food, a home, running water. A bed, a room to myself, a computer, internet access. I have a family that supports me no matter how useless I feel I am.
But then he takes that from me, and twists it. Makes me think that everything I have I don’t deserve.
And I don’t.
He makes me feel bad for it. That’s why. That’s why I put up this carefree façade. Why I wear a face that isn’t my own.
Because if anyone ever saw who I really am, I feel that every little thing he says about me would suddenly become true. And I can’t let that happen.
Even now, trying to reaffirm myself and you that I’m not the person that he tells me I am, I can’t help but think that he’s right. I can’t help but think that maybe I am who he says I am. That maybe, I deserve nothing. That I am nothing. That I can give, nothing. That I am just a leech, feeding off the energy of others.
There are so many things I want to do, but I find them so hard.
I feel like eventually, I’ll stop wanting them.
And that when that day comes, I wont even care any more.