“Monsters”
Sep 09, 2019Every day is a different monster. Some are cute, fluffy, colorful, squeezable monsters that make you laugh and feel good inside. Most are mean, giant, angry, coarse monsters that reach inside of you with sharp claws and scramble your organs around while biting your head with teeth like knives. You don’t want to think about those painful days that feel like an eternity while you are living them.
Your head spins and it makes your body spin. And you don’t know which started spinning first, which makes it all spin faster. They tell you not to think about it, to just ignore it. But every attempt to ignore the monster just makes the monster angrier. Your eyes roll around in their sockets and you want to puke. You want the monster to shit or get off the pot. Either squeeze my head until it pops and I’m free of all sensation, or get the fuck out of here and let me live in peace.
You’re not alone. That’s what they all tell you. Sometimes it’s a relief and helps to know you’re not alone. But you know it’s all a lie. You’re in it alone because we all get to deal with it on our own. That’s what makes it the most painful. You reach out your hands for someone to grab and pull you from the monster’s arm. Some try. Bless their souls. They try. But the monster’s grip is always tighter. You yell to pull harder but they run out of strength. They can only pull so hard for so long. And you know it and don’t fault them for it. So you resign yourself to being held by the cold skin of the monster’s arm, living in shadow, so close to the sun-drenched warmth everyone else lives in. You want to cry, to scream, but nothing comes out.
You are all alone. Just you and your monster. “Why don’t you leave me alone?” you ask your monster. It doesn’t acknowledge you or your question or your existence. It just keeps a tight grip on the powerless being it feeds on. It’s either you or the monster, and the monster is bigger and stronger. You are weak. You are weak. “I am weak,” you remind yourself. And your head and body spin. You close your eyes at the end of the day, hoping you can float away for a few moments without thinking about your captor. But you know it lies there next to you, holding you tight. You know it’s waiting for you to try to get away, and when you do try, it will only become more enraged and will clamp down harder. You will regret trying to not think about it, trying to get away. You will regret it. You are weak. You are alone. You will never get away. You will never cry. You will never scream. Their hands will never be strong enough to pull you away. “I’m sorry,” you say to them and they force a smile and tell you you’re doing fine. “We’re rooting for you. We see your progress. We have faith.” And your monster growls and their smiles fade and they run back to their cute, cuddly monsters and embrace in the warmth of joy and happiness. Enjoy your fucking darkness.