It's All In My Head

I wrote this while having an anxiety attack. I've struggled with anxiety and lack of outside understanding for a while, and this helps me describe it.

It's not easy
People think it's ridiculous.
People say it's fake.
People don't understand.
"Why can't you just stop it? It's all in your head anyway."
Ah, yes.
It's all in my head, isn't it?
It's easy to just stop it, isn't it?
I'm getting help, aren't I?
"Just... don't."
Ah, yes.
Of course.
Just because you said that, all of a sudden I have complete control of the monster living in my head.
Yes, just because it's inside of me, that means I have complete control.
Ah, yes.
Of course.
Why didn't I think of that?
So this monster, this horrid, punishing fury that takes over my mind, is all my fault.
It's not real, they say
You're ridiculous, they say
Just stop it, you're so annoying, you're making it sound worse than it actually is.
You're doing it for attention.
Ah, yes.
It's hard to describe. It's even harder to control.
How to put it into words?
He (I like to imagine it's a he/they, though he's genderfluid) is brutal, merciless.
You could just be sitting with your friends.
Having dinner with your parents.
Taking notes in your APUSH class.
And he decides he's bored, he wants to have some fun.
With you, of course.
So he opens the door, the door in the way back of your brain, and he crawls out. There's an evil smile on his face. He's happy. You hear him crawl out. You feel his heavy feet pounding into your conscience. You ask him to go back. To leave you alone. Because this isn't the time, really, just leave me alone.
Most of the time, he won't.
He plunges into his favorite part of you.
That sickening feeling in your gut.
You're going to throw up.
You feel your previous meal rising in your throat...
Breathe.
Breathe.
It pangs.
It hurts.
Good God, it hurts.
Breathe.
Focus.
It's okay.
No, it's not. He's inside of me, he's controlling me, he's here again...
He's crawling in my throat, pushing up everything that I try to put down.
He's in my stomach, twirling and throwing about the things inside of it.
He's having fun.
Good God, it hurts.
Make it stop!
But he won't.
He's having fun. He turns to your head.
You can't see.
The world spins.
Suddenly, you're dizzy, your head is spinning.
You can't see.
There's pressure in your mind, somewhere in the back.
Another stomach pang.
He's pushing into your head, all around it, he's making you dizzy. You can't focus.
You're shaking. Your body is uncontrollable. Your body has a mind of its own, no, it doesn't, it's his mind, because your body's mind is left open and weak. Your body is shaking, you're wheezing, there's nothing you can do except sit back and watch.
At this point you may start crying.
Time to freak out.
It hurts, mom, dad, it hurts.
"Hush, honey, use your techniques, calm down, it's all in your head."
Or
"Again, really? Not now. Suck it up."
Or
"..."
silence.
My silence is a powerful scream.
I scream, please, do something, it hurts.
But they just look at you.
The world, it disapproves.
It's in your head, you stupid child.
Suck it up.
Live with it.
I can't. I can't live with it. He's too powerful.
"You ungrateful fool, so many people have it so much worse than you."
Ah, yes.
Play the pity card, will you?
Because who am I to be a little quiet worrywart when there's people starving, people who can't even leave their house because of their monsters?
Yes, I know.
I'm aware.
But...
Their monsters aren't like mine.
Many monsters have taken control.
People let their monsters take them.
It's so easy. It's so easy to go down that path
It's so hard not to.
Ah, yes.
Wouldn't it be nice to let him win?
Wouldn't it be nice to not have to fight?
Let the pain take over.
Let the hurt take over.
Let the people send you away.
Let them judge.
Let them understand you're really, really messed up.
Ah, yes.
It's so easy to give up.
Fighting him is a daily battle.
It's such a hard battle.
Physically and emotionally exhausting.
You fight him daily so you can fit in.
He fights back.
This battle is different for everyone.
My battle is food.
The sight of it.
The smell of it.
The taste of it.
The feel of it.
The sound of it.
The thought of it.
Nausea. He's pushing at your throat again.
You can't swallow. You can't eat.
You just can't.
But why? Not another one. You ruin it. You ruin everything. You're ruining our family meals. You're ruining our quality time. You're ruining us.
Ah, yes.
I ruin everything, don't I?
Because I let this little monster control me.
Ah, yes.
I let him.
I obviously do it on purpose.
I obviously am not trying hard enough.
Obviously.
Because he lives inside of me, doesn't he?
He just lives.
He's under my control.
He's at my will.
Obviously, I can just make him go away.
Ah, yes.
Because my stomach isn't turning in on itself
Because my head isn't actually spinning
Because my breath isn't getting short, quick
Because my tears aren't actual pain
It's all in my head.
Ah, yes.
It's all in my head.

Reviews

[Cassick Dame]

This is a wonderfully written piece. I can really see the emotional drive behind your work. Your ability to express feelings in your words is one of the best parts of this.