Against Myself
On a bad day, I am a danger to myself. I am self-calamitous. I get in my own way. I am an internal obstacle — a self-impediment. On a bad day, I am my own archrival and nemesis. My decisions and actions — or lack thereof — undermine my best efforts and intentions. I sink into each failure like quicksand. I suffocate my creative children in the womb of my mind. I fill my own thoughts with doubts that make me pause. I am a self-deterrent. I ask myself to turn away from what I want.
I have my ways — sinister and subtle. I procrastinate. I distract. I sleep-deprive. I fill my mental artillery with weapons of mass destruction. There are critic grenades and dream-seeking missiles. There is the A-bomb — A for apathy. There are the semi-automatic assault rifles pre-loaded with bullet points of doubt. And there is an army of insecurity at the ready — just waiting to begin the onslaught.
On a bad day, I am not safe. I cannot be trusted to act in my own best interest. On a bad day I act as though I don’t or can’t want good things for myself. I thwart my own success. I hide landmines along the route I plan to take. I collect the casualties, each a spectre of my true self.
Where is the root of this inner anarchy? Planted in fear and watered with large droplets of doubt. Why do I wage such a cold war against myself? Panic attacked first.
