A Glimpse of My Demon
by Catrina Bradley
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Who AM I? Better question Ė who is this person who lives inside of me now? She is battling with the me that has always been there, and I donít like her. I would like her to leave. Now. But then Iíve wanted that for many a year and still she insists on staying and pestering me and making my life miserable. She takes over my life way too much. There are days when I seem to be in control again and think I will finally be ok again. But then, in the middle of nothing, she rears her ugly head and takes over. Just go away already! Nope. She insists on hanging out. Intruding on my emotions, my thoughts, my motivation, my love, my routine (if I even have one anymore.) Hmph.
Sheís been around for a while now. I used to be happy most of the time. Only things that are supposed to make someone mad or sad or anxious made me mad or sad or anxious. Now all it takes is a look, or an unintended tone in someoneís voice, or an imagined snub, and there she is. She instantly takes over, shoves me aside, and I have no more control. Tears are her favorite thing in life, I think. She loves to make me cry. I hate to cry. Crying is weak. Crying is for babies. No one likes to be around someone who is crying. No one knows what to say. And it doesnít matter WHAT they say because nothing helps. Even asking ďAre you ok?Ē makes me cry harder. Hug me and Iím gone. I think it makes her laugh to make me cry, or gives her some kind of satisfaction. I donít get it. What does she want anyway? Why is she here? What does she want from me? Why wonít she GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
I just want to be me again. I want to have a smidgen of control. Just a smidgen. At all times. I have no control. I think I have control. Iím just a naÔve fool. She lets me think that so she can jump out and say, ďAHA, you are nothing, you are weak.Ē BAH. I hate her. I hate what she does to me.
But what's worse is how she is affecting other people. Iím supposed to be the uplifter, the smiler, the comforter, the ear, the shoulder. When Iím down, I bring everyone else down with me. I know itís true. So I pretend. I fake smile and fake happy. I still listen, but my advice is tinged with HER.
Why does God let her stay around? Is it making me stronger? Some days I think so. On the good days. On the bad days I wonder. Some days she makes it hard to talk to Him. Some days she blocks Him out so I canít hear Him or feel Him. That makes it so much worse, which Iím sure makes her so much happier. Itís like she is laughing with delight, like satan in Don McLeanís ďAmerican PieĒ on the day the music died. She has killed the music in my soul.
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This is a great reality piece! I would venture that most of us at one time or another can relate to this "alter-ego". I liked this piece because of the poignant nature and frankness of the writing. It is true, real, and people can relate. Well done!
Crying is weak, you say, and to that I say: "Jesus wept" and as a "red blooded American male" I had to learn to weep. Dear, brave soul, that is not a demon! That is the "old man", the sin nature, the old essence of who we used to be that does want control again. You said that you want a "smidgeon of control" but if you could have it, then allow me to ask: What then is the place or purpose of the Holy Spirit? Self control is a FRUIT of the Spirit, it cannot be conjured up, nor can it be wished for earnestly enough for it to manifest. It comes by ABIDING, living IN HIM and in no other way. My old man lives, but, he hasn't the power or control that he once did, in that regard he is "dead". We think that death means cessation of life. Death is not the cessation of life completely but the portal into another realm, another kingdom, one into which you and I have most certainly been translated (supernaturally moved into) What you have described is the state of ALL of your brothers and sisters. Take heart and look up.