She keeps striking out in the darkness,
but there is no one there to fight.
The shadows dance and slip away,
and she is exhausted to her very soul,
sparring with aggressors that don’t exist.
How to be successful in battle
when the one she fights
is on the inside?
A sense of heaviness, futility
from deep within.
Maybe it’s a simple case of fatigue.
I summon the courage and the strength
to recognize I won’t feel this way forever.
I face the demons, and I do battle.
No one sees. No one knows.
To the outside world,
I’m this cheerful person.
No one realizes the mighty battle
I’m fighting every day.
Sometimes the greatest wars
are waged within.
A mighty battle is being waged,
a battle between the parts of me
that yearn for more out of my life,
and the parts that don’t believe
that more exists,
or that more is relevant,
or that more is possible.
Fear creeps in, and doubt;
if I let them take hold,
I get depressed.
That’s the old me.
The new me
knows that more is possible.
The new me can
look at my thoughts objectively,
sort through and find the helpful ones
and give my soul permission
to go for it.
At this point, I’m pretty biased.
I’m not going to be fair and give equal
help to both sides of the battle.
I’m going to pick which side I want to help.
I want the new me to win.
I keep trying so hard.
Trying to be good.
Trying to be wise,
to be skillful,
to be knowledgeable,
worthy of love and respect.
Hustling for my self-worth
is an endless battle.
If I could just put down my weapons,
walk away from the front lines,
go to a quiet place,
I might become attuned
to the inherent goodness,
the worthiness that is my birthright.
But how after years of training for war
do I give up the fight?