A great battle was lost today. It was a surprise attack, a very sneaky one at that. It blew up like a bomb in front of my face. The day had started so beautiful and clear, so reassuring and blissful. Then around noon we relented some territory… thus was the beginning of our fall. Like a bad omen the rest of my day has proceeded into a downward spiral. I feel like retching but an oath I took prevents me from purging. I must battle the enemy within my very own gates. The worst part is, I let them in. How I despise my weakness and want to slice the experience from me. How I curse my persuasive foe! I gave an inch and they took a hundred miles! I accepted a kind offer and thought to myself, I’ll keep this but not consume. It called to me, and my plans rapidly changed. I rearranged my attack strategies and compromised former tactics. What if I just consumed 20 total a day instead of those 20 specific? I thought to myself. I conceded, and like letting in the Trojan horse, I was quickly undone and set ablaze.
An animal was released and the enemy was consumed, 7 legions times 5. My throat burns and the taste of blood runs thick in my mouth, but I cannot stop once I’ve started. More and more till my life force is thick and flooded with the poison.
I disgust myself, my head aches and hands shake. My heart is pounding and I feel the sickness spreading. My chest is tight and my breathing now labored. I will be unwell for the next week due to this loss. On my knees I write the words back onto my wrists and await the time when the strength will return to rise to my feet.
I kick myself, the battle bruises begin to show through on my face, blotching it with the marks of the weak.
I lie amazed and dazed that all my efforts can be dashed in one act of weakness, and how I must now dig myself out of this black hole and attempt to recover my lost ground.
All of my careful preparation and timing, all for not. I am now drowning in the blood of the battle and swimming hard for shore. How much more difficult have I made this for myself.
I realize I am weak, I am a failure. Who was I attempting to fool by undertaking this? Then I realize, it wasn’t just me, it was you. But I guess you saw right through me from the start and you laugh at me from your perch while I’m on my knees in the mud and blood from the attack. Instead of extending a hand you call me out. Faux. Yes. Faux. I can’t stick to this regime as evidenced by the dead that lie around me on the battlefield. You knew along I was going to fail didn’t you?
And deep down I suppose even I know what will happen next. I will spend a few days in tears, misery, and bingeing. Then I will pick myself up and begin my desperate crusade again. I’m stuck in this depressing cycle of wretched melancholy and gloom. Will I ever burst free? I’m chained and trapped. But see, although this is a cycle, there are results. And the measures show, although there are failures and steps backward, the net result is progress. Even if I continue on this path, I may shortly be adequately thin enough to slip through the chains on me. Perhaps then, perhaps then I’ll be free.
No comments:
Post a Comment