The Bloodless Battle

This is a dark piece. I've struggled with an unhealthy view of myself, especially in middle school and college. This story attempts to vocalize the thoughts that built a solid neurological pathway within my mind. I feel like I've finally overcome this dark period of my life, but I don't want to forget how I got out of it just in case it happens again. Although my faith is shaky and I often question God's existence, I can't deny that I found comfort by turning to God during these despairing moments of irrationality. 

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What the heck is going on?!

I screamed inside my thoughts. It was just another one of my dramatic monologues crashing through the insides of my brain.

Realistically, you'll never accomplish anything.

A sigh of relief.

It was better to admit it inside my head, rather than wonder if it was true.

You're ugly and wretched.

...I hate myself.

Aerosol Vitriol sprayed my inner thoughts, ripping holes through the delicate edifice of self-respect...but I was wielding the can, I was creating the inner dialog. So goes the epic collision with reason, but Thomas Paine could not save me now.

I was trapped inside my mind.

You're worthless

and heartless

and selfish

and stupid.

I know, I know.

You're pathetic. Stop trying.

...I know, I hate myself.

Heartless, unloved, unloving, you're pathetic and worthless.

Ugly, and remember that time when you failed, and again this other time. You always try, but fail. You think you have potential, but you never succeed.

No, I'm better than this person, and better than this other person. But wait, I guess this person is better than me and this person is better than me. And why are you comparing yourself at all? You're not supposed to compare. You're bad. You only love yourself, you don't care about anyone or anything. You're selfish and lonely. You'll always be alone because no one wants to be with a selfish bitch like you. Stop trying you wretch. You're a disaster. I hate you. Why did I have to be you. You were the worst person I could have been.................................................

"I hate myself."

...surprised, I looked around and then suddenly realized that it was me who had spoken...out loud. My thoughts had suddenly escaped into a verbal declaration. Did anyone hear that? No. I smiled. I'm so weird. Why would I say that out loud?  My eyes closed softly, chin held high. Because I could admit it and still be strong. I could live with my constant failure.

-and then I crumpled into a ball and started sobbing.

A sudden burst of emotion would not seem quite so sporadic if you could hear the thoughts she hears.

My body ached, my head reeled, my heart bled. But at least this time the cognition of black tar was evicted through water droplets falling from my eyes. It was worse when my numbness held it captive. Seconds, minutes, hours, eons. How long have I been crying?

And then my sobs ran out. My tears welled to the brim, then settled.

What just happened? A whispered prayer fell from my lips and I waited for heaven - though the transmission speed is always unpredictable. However, this time God seemed relieved that I had finally asked and His response came quickly. Peace suddenly poured over my dusty wits, revealing a muddy disarray deep inside the caverns of this girl's grasp with self-reality. The prayer did not nothing to comfort, but it did provide clarity and my thoughts were exposed for what they truly were, broken and distorted.

I rolled out of the crumbled ball onto my back, exhausted. I stared at the ceiling and picked out images in the paint's texture.

A cat, a balloon, a house, a backward "S,"

another cat.

enough. Enough. I slowly sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees and I sharply whispered my counter, charged with defiance:

"I am a beautiful daughter of God, loving and capable."

The words were given to me by the graces of an armored angel. I called her mom, though she preferred Nancy.