Bad Day

I had a really bad day yesterday. Nothing came out of my mouth right and my head was full of The Awful.

Do you know about The Awful? It's the monster who sits there and convinces you that you are stupid and worthless and that the people who are most important to you don't really like you. He intercepts all incoming words and mashes them around until they reflect precisely how worthless you are. After he's done wtih that he bangs his big fists inside your head until your brain feels ready to explode.

There are few ways to quiet The Awful, none of them good; but he tricks you into thinking that screaming and crying will shut him up. At the end of it all, when you're feeling drained and tired, The Awful sits- fat and happy; gorged on your bad behaviour and hurt feelings; excessively pleased with himself.

I was hoping today would be better; like any binge, I find myself looking backward in shame. Why did I think those things? How could I have believed they were true? Am I subconsciously preparing to be made to feel bad about myself? Is The Awful a part of me, or is it the Devil himself stomping around in my brain? Maybe it's both, and I'm part-Devil.

Today is not better.