The Enemy in my Head

An enemy that lives in my head.

Saying I’m not good enough, asking me what’s wrong, why can’t you do anything right. A lot of times, it can become evil. Waking up is hard enough with the inner critic at times, but once I close my eyes, the inner critic becomes alive; it shows me all my fears and my memories visually, and sometimes I wonder if she is angry at me. I used to think everything I did was wrong, like I shouldn’t do or say this or that. She made me scared to speak, thinking the world was against me. Sometimes I feel like she was right, but looking back now, I didn’t cause the problem; I was minding my own business. People came to me and were just mean, and that made my inner voice louder.

For years, I believed her; thunderclouds hung over my head, wondering why this was happening to me, why I couldn’t be happy. Everything that happened was my fault, I thought. I would cry, and she would still say it’s my fault. At one point, she took my brain completely; I once was dead, feeling numb in my body, feeling like a zombie. I didn’t know who I was anymore; I used to look in the mirror and see a stranger. Who am I? I asked myself what happened, why I was feeling this way. I never realized it was because of the things I couldn’t control, like my childhood and being bullied in school. I couldn’t control anything. Having negativity around and about me was a nightmare I couldn’t escape; when I slept, it was still there. I was left with the feeling of pain, the curse, the nightmare I thought was true. I didn’t choose any of this; my soul was at the bottom of something I couldn’t see or reach, but the inner sound in my mind became louder no matter what I did; she made me feel like nothing; she made me feel weak; I got so tired I took her hand and stayed in the dark. I cried, thinking this would last forever, that I was stuck forever wanting to feel different, but she kept saying there’s no way out, and I believed her; I believed every word she said, but she made me feel worse about myself to the point that I isolated myself.

But now I am breathing again. The reward of surviving is something I will remember forever because it is the proof that I am still here; surviving is my strength, and it’s just as loud as the darkness, but when the darkness escapes for a while, I can feel my heart again; I can feel the wind on my skin; my brain has reappeared; I have learned that the darkness doesn’t go away completely for me, and that’s okay. When the darkness arrives, I can replay memories in my mind that show me proof of how far I have come, like I have turned my pain into writing, not realizing I still have so much pain. As an adult, I have learned that I can be successful even if my childhood wasn’t the greatest; I can feel proud of myself and feel no regret. I know now there are things I can’t control; I couldn’t stop anything from happening; it wasn’t my fault. I choose to set a wall between family and me because, to me, I shouldn’t have to be terrified of someone who’s family, and as an adult, I choose to set that wall, and I feel in control of my body; I feel like myself.