None of them know about the nights I spend sitting on my bed wrestling with my thoughts. They don't know about the endless hours I fight to stay alive. How I wake up in the morning having managed to make it through another night without succumbing to the darkness.
They don't know how I feel good and then crash for no reason. How I fight to hold on to the feeling good and how hard I push to remove the feeling bad.
I don't want to feel bad. I love the good feelings, I really do.
Nights are the worst. Here alone with myself. It's not a chemical imbalance. It's not. It's my life that's wrong. My mind screams about how it's wrong. But no one is there to help. That's part of the problem, there's no one. I just want to hold on to someone for a bit. That touch, that comfort.
Sometimes it hits me for days, I go to work, put on my happy mask. Fake it. But that makes me more tired. And so I am down even more, a cycle that makes the battle harder.
It's been like this for so long. The battles within myself. If they showed as visible wounds I would be covered in scars.
But none of them see me. I'm just the guy in the supermarket, or at work or in the line at the bank. I look a little tired but still fine. Nothing wrong with him they think.
But they don't see that night time battle.
It's night time again. The demons in my mind are whispering. I'm so tired. Sometimes I get tempted to let them win. No more battles then, no more fighting. A long rest.
But not tonight. The battle begins once more. Round and round we will go. Can I win tonight? Or will it be days of this? I don't know. But once more I shall fight. For now.
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