I’m sorry for my mind

I feel it starting again. The thoughts that burrow into my mind like unwanted visitors. They tell me things that aren’t true. They take away any happy they find and replace it with doubt, with sadness and they attack me where it hurts. They find out my biggest fears and insecurities and bombard me with untruths.

They replay scenarios on loop, torturing me until I repent. They use innocent snippets from my memories and twist them into something else. Forcing me to question everything I’ve ever thought, said, heard or experienced.

Either I start to believe them or I panic. I crumble under the pressure, from the constant torment. Am I crazy? Did that happen?

I’m beginning to notice the unwanted visitors as soon as they arrive now. They are not as stealthy as they used to be; I can sniff them out before they get ahold of my mind, mostly anyway. Sometimes they are silent and creep up on me when I least expect it. They are devious, cunning and intrude while I sleep, subjecting me to terror I can’t escape.

I’m left exhausted, my body hurts, my heart aches and my mind… my mind is jumbled with (misplaced) guilt, self-loathing and fear.

Fear of losing my loves.

So I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for my mind. My stupid, stupid mind.

I’m sorry for making my anxiety yours.

Forgive me.

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