Demons

Everybody has personal demons of some sort; I’m no exception. Some people ignore them, some let their demons rule their lives. Some people conquer their demons; others lead very destructive lives because of them.  I don’t know where I fall in all of that. My demons lead me into my head, where I wallow and sometimes flail, in misery.

I’ve learned the hard way that nothing lasts forever. Everything changes – that’s not a revelation for anyone. My demons prey on this knowledge. They remind me that nothing lasts forever, everything changes, feelings change, plans change, plans die, emotions die. They torture me with my personal fear of being alone forever, of not being good enough, of not being enough, of disappointing, of being too emotional, too needy, too much. I hate those motherfuckers.

I fall into my head, where my demons taunt me and remind me of every fear, until I shut down. I lose all energy. I drift through my day aware of everything, caring about nothing. I force myself to do what I have to do for my children, and nothing else. I think about the past, the present, and the future, and I lose all hope.

I used to think my issue was “baggage” but that’s not accurate. I live with my personal baggage every day just like everyone else. It’s the demons, my fears, that make my baggage too heavy to carry. My baggage and my fears go hand in hand. My fear of being alone and unloved allowed me to stay in a relationship that should have withered and died within the first few months – instead it lasted 12 years.

My demons use that knowledge – that I stayed when I shouldn’t have because I was afraid that was the best I could do, that I married him in the first place, that it ended badly – to plague me with doubts and self-loathing. Once I conquered most of that, those same demons convinced me that no relationship would ever work out for me.

I’ve spent a lot of time in a mental space, believing very firmly, that I’m not good enough, that I contribute very little, that there’s no reason for anyone to feel strong emotions for me. Sad but true. Damn demons, damn fears, damn over-thinking everything.

I’m so deep in my head today that I can’t see the way out – except to write it out. The moment I open my mouth to try and talk about it, the motherfuckers convince me that no one wants to hear it, that I’m a nuisance, that it won’t change anything, that it’s another example (in a long list) of me being too much, taking instead of giving – and so I say nothing.

I’ll venture out of this space eventually – I always do. Not because I’ve conquered the demons, not because I’m any better at handling it, but because my own sense of obligation won’t let me be that selfish.

I hate those fucking demons.