The Beast.
Morning’s light creeps it’s way into my window. Slowly but surely, unsuspectingly about to awaken the beast.
It is not a beast that can be seen, at least not to you.
Awoken abruptly, my heart races off like a speeding arrow. There are no easy mornings for me anymore.
Instantly overwhelmed, I can’t help but replay my worst fears in my head. While these play over, and over, like old re-running t.v. shows, I force myself to go about my morning routine.
I quietly take my shower. I quietly pack my lunch. I quietly get dressed for the day. I drive in absolute silence for 40 minutes until I get to work.
Here, it is often possible to get lost in my work. Slow start, while I try to battle what’s within. My brain functions normally for spurts, but then the beast returns.
Gathering myself, I have to put forth maximum effort to put aside my emotions. Like a fireman, fighting a house fire with a garden hose.
The beast pokes his head out, but doesn’t pounce. He waits for the perfect moment of vulnerability, before he engages.
Another day I have survived the taunting. Hoping no one could see it on my face. 10 hours of roller-coasted emotions.
Worn, tired, and beaten, I head back to my car for my silent drive home.
Home again. I try to wash myself clean of my worries. Finally under the covers, I know what’s coming.
He has been waiting for this moment.
Exposed, and seemingly helpless, the beast attacks. He takes over my thoughts, ravages my hopes, and spews my fears on the floor.
I try, and try to fall asleep as fast as I can. But he is unrelenting, and I am a cowering child. The struggle makes it harder, makes him become stronger. For hours I ruminate, over the things I cannot change, weakening my soul.
I long for the day where I can rid myself of this beast. Cast him away to the depths of hell where he belongs. Sleep is my temporary solace, but even then he peaks in once in a while. Just to wait for the sun, to awaken him once again.













