Fight

Last night I was tortured. I tried, with much effort, to escape. I kicked, I screamed, and I fought, but I lost to my thoughts that had me bound in chains. They told me horrible things. They told me I was ugly, fat, and worthless. They told me that no one would ever want me.

And last night, I believed them.

Afterall, who has kept me around? Most people in my life have left, died, or moved on to bigger and better things while I remain standing in the rubble of the memories. I hold on to dear life, grasping onto every chance or possiblility that maybe, one day, I'll be good enough for them to come back to me. I run, I chase, and I seek their approval, desperately needing some kind of love to keep my heart beating. Because on my own I don't feel good enough.

When will this massacre of my self-esteem and dignity end? Will it ever? Will I forever be bound to these thoughts that rule my world?

Maybe.
It's very possible that I may always creep around these thoughts that lurk in the shadows of my mind. But every single day is a new opportunity to fight these words that cut deep into my soul. Every moment I am given the choice to either lay down and take the abuse, or to fight for my life.

And so are you.

Fight.