The Goblin

I wake up and he's there. He dogs my steps all day, like an especially loyal... well... dog. Except I like dogs, and he's loathsome.

He's there the second I wake up, and when I get into bed in the evening, there he is again. The thing I've came to hate the most about him is his relentlessness.

It doesn't matter what I'm doing or where I am. He's always elbowing his way in, trying to be involved. When I'm having a conversation, he's right there, tapping me on the shoulder. Persistent.

He makes me cry. Makes me despair. Makes it hard to concentrate, hard to sleep. He siphons away my energy, taints my enjoyment of all things.

He makes it hard to leave the house. But when I do, he comes with me. I don't get to see friends that often, and when I do, they can't see him. I sometimes think they have a hard time believing he's there, that he's always there.

I know my good friends and the most empathetic people are close to believing me, to understanding. But even for them, I'm sure that in five minutes, or five hours, they will be thinking of something else. I don't blame them one bit. I would, too, if I were them. But I don't have that luxury. The thought makes me feel alone. Like an abusive partner, he steadily isolates me. Alienates as many friends as he can.

I dread waking up in the morning. I dread lying in bed at night, trying to ignore him enough to sleep. He's found his way into my dreams.

He's ghastly. A lot of people are scared of him, even of just the idea of him. That's understandable. What they often don't understand is, when he's your constant companion, he stops being scary. He becomes the worst kind of boring.

I'm just so tired of him. So tired. I've tried many things to get rid of him. All kinds of potions and poisons to purge him from my life. Nothing's ever worked.

I'm exhausted.

There is no end to this story. Just that. I'm exhausted and I want this pain to fuck off.

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Word count (excluding note): 366

Submitted on 1st April at 14.17

*Quick Author's Note*

First, and most importantly: thank you for reading!

Secondly, also very important: this is not autobiographical. I am fine!

If you enjoyed this story, the best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another.

A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one makes an 92 day streak since the 1st January. I'm collating them in my Index post.

The story behind the story - this is a story about Complex Regional Pain Pain Syndrome (CRPS), which is severe, persistent and debilitating pain, possily in response to injury. It's poorly understood, and the prognosis isn't great. It's nicknamed the "suicide disease".

If you'd like some prompts to get your inky juices flowing, have a look at my prompts for April! These include my birthday indulgence: a Fucked Up Fairy Tales Unofficial Challenge, which I'll be posting more about soon 😁

Thank you

Thank you again! I do my best to reciprocate all reads. Leaving a comment makes that easier 😁