Weight on a Soul

Them. 

Those voices. 

They haunt us, waking or not. 

And they are tireless. Constantly chipping away at the edge of our vision, our consciousness, our esteem and worth. 

Horrible whispers in the corners of your mind and so very difficult to get away from, because they are you. 

Drugs only go so far to quiet them, meditation and spirituality help only so much. Profession “help” is more like suggestions for trial and error. In the meantime there is a fist that clenches ever tighter in your gut and your heart. A razors smile in the dark waiting for you to let your guard down. “You are weak, your body is failing you. Aren’t you tired of the pain? Soon you probably won’t be able to walk, why keep fighting it? And oh, all the friends that you are letting down. You can’t even take being surprised by a fire cracker! You are a joke on two legs. Not to mention how you look. You can’t even stand to look in a mirror, let alone a photo. How can anyone else stand to look at you? And when they do you know all that they see is a broken vet, someone that isn’t and can’t be right. They just wonder when you are going to go off the deep end. Let’s talk about your wife. She is young, beautiful, brilliant, and talented. How the HELL can you keep her happy? How long will she be able to keep loving a broken man?”

This is a voice that is daily. That haunts and hurts. Lately that voice is getting louder, easier to hear and harder to ignore and prove wrong. I am scared. I am afraid. I am not sure how to fight. I just have to try.