Having daily conversations with my demons has proven to be both beneficial and destructive. Discovering things about myself I don’t want to face but my hand is forced to do so. I talk to the demon called alcohol dependency and while it hasn’t taken on it’s full form, it beckons to me to keep picking up that bottle and making myself broke as I swipe my card for more drinks. Demon of depression shouts that I’ll never see the sun again and this black cloud of misery will forever hover over my tired body. Anxiety demon wakes me up faithfully through the night and early in the morning telling me to wake up in fear of facing the day, filling my mind with uncontrollable thoughts of uncertainty. Body image demon has my reflection distorted in the mirror of an ugly, unlovable and undesirable person, what with the weight I’ve gained these past two years, the pounds I’ve neglected to shed. I speak to all of these ugly creatures on a daily basis and sometimes when I beg and plead, they go away but they come back faithfully.
Fighting back tears as I have every single one of them rearing their heads currently. I fight demons. I fight them with the hope and faith of God and the universe I serve. This is one form of violence I’ll never get tired of participating in. It is the fight for my life, my happiness, my soul.
– Writer From Jersey