The other person
By Benjamin C Ewald
I\'m not one person
Or more in the literal since I am but one but hidden in the dark recesses of my mind in the abandon memories and forsaken landscape we call sanity there is two utterly different people. There is me and him.
Me the shiny happy person who trust everyone and him. He who is also me but separate From me entirely. He is the one that makes me trusting people so hard. He is the one who is dark and twist. He is the only thing in this world I fear entirely.
Behind every broken relationship, every bad habit every vice every evil or saddening thought lies him. He is the maker of temptation the destroyer of my happiness who every night try\'s and begs to be freed.
He is an evil person a man who is not physically there yet has a death grip on me. He is the one who kills happy thoughts who gives me panic in even the happiest of times. I try and try to break him I tear at him in my brain I give it every thing I have and yet he still is buried deep in my brain. He is my anxiety. He is the reason I have trust issues the one who controls me. No matter how much I try I cannot break free.
Yet the more I think of him and the problems he provides I realize I need him. He keeps me from getting hurt. He gives me thought of worst case he takes away and hides the euphoria that might cloud my judgement.
He is not me. And am not him. Yet he is me and I am him and it tears at me every minutes I have of any free thought. I cannot escape him in my sleep for he is also there waiting and waiting for me to let him take control. But I know him taking control would ruin me and hurt people that I love and he could never understand that. I
My life is a living hell because of him. Yet I need him. He is me as much as I am me.
He is my anxiety and that is me.