I’d rather this be my fight

I’d rather this be my fight. If you’re going to fight, why shouldn’t it be for the right side? If the current pattern is misery, why not be miserable twice? What are you so scared of? The flickers of feelings that you could inject into your bloodstream are better than actually injecting poison. Part of me dismembers the memories of good days into a version of anxiety and depression just because I want to drink the poison. I don’t claim glory for anything because of the rain-filled cloud that could release any second. But the rain doesn’t feel cold when I have the poison. And I don’t have to feel. Even the good stuff. Just to be numb. I’d rather this be my fight.

I’d rather this be my fight. Throw out the things that alter your reality and postpone your recovery. Stop reacting to your anxiety and listen to the voices that guide the way. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever done? Questions don’t answer my minds addictive thoughts. How long will it last? What time? When will you do it again? Remember when it didn’t help when you were depressed? It didn’t help you get out of bed. It didn’t help you to tone down the buzz. It didn’t help you focus or get things done. It only made things worse. And yet, you label it the solution. Well, I’m done with it. I’d rather this be my fight.

I’d rather this be my fight. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t so easy to get. But would I rather be conquered by something stronger? Probably not. The words they spoke to you were true, but you never reached out after that day. Why is it so scary? Maybe it should be easy. If you think it into truth, maybe you’ll achieve what they say. You think that this has just happened, but it’s been years, Grace. You are the story. You are the victim. You are the soldier. The battles you’ve conquered are stronger than the ones you still need to face. So, you can survive. You can do it. Tattoo it on your body and when the blood spills, your body will make more. I’d rather this be my fight.

I’d rather this be my fight. What would they think? How would you tell? One conversation would loosen the heartstrings you’ve been keeping together. I’d never want her to know about it. So, why can’t that be enough? At the same time, you’re being so hard on yourself. You’ve come so far and done so much that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did you try your hardest every day? Yes. Could you have done it differently? No. I mean, yes. Um, no. You’ve come so far. Believe in yourself. I’d rather this be my fight.

I’d rather this be my fight. Fearing the normalcy of life is something I’ve gotten to know. And I can’t figure out why I am this way when yesterday I wasn’t, and I can’t explain the difference between all the factors. It’s my scientific brain. Analyze the data. Update the experiment. Collect data. Analyze again. Live in a constant loop of trying to be better than you were the second before and never settle for less than what your top is. When will I get to relax? When will it be over? Will this ever stop? And why does it make it so much better? I’d rather this be my fight.

This is my fight. Tomorrow I will be better than I was today. The toxins will be less concentrated in my bloodstream. I’ll remember the worth of the simple things. I will channel the feelings that I need to succeed. Tomorrow will be less. When will it be none? When will it be over? This is my fight. xo.