Sabotage

I struggle with transition.

Makes me feel battered and defeated.

Weak, ineffective.

Blue.

Starts old habits of obsessing over things that are senseless in the here and now.

Unwarranted. Unworthy of energy.

Yet it is consuming.

Old wounds and current insecurities blur together. Tumultuous overlapping of memory and feeling.

Spiraling.

Hard to shut down.

Short list of coping skills self-destructive as much as effective. More so perhaps.

Seeking to replace new found ache with a dull numbness.

Flurries of activity mask the fear. Blunt the emotion.

So long as there are no breaks.

Hours, minutes, seconds.

Idle time becomes an enemy when this feeling sets in.

Sleep is an elusive though alluring partner. So long as she is dreamless.

The little voice in my head, once so loud, recently muffled, sees her opportunity to begin her battle cry anew.

Rally defenses. Rebuild walls. Bury recently uncovered vulnerability.

She is ruthless. Knows all the tender places to poke. Relentlessly rub raw.

She likes to be alone. Whispers doubt to ensure it. Schemes at ways to make it happen.

Fancies it stoic, honorable.

Safe.

I wish desperately she would call it a day. Pack it in. Leave me be.

She won't. She requires attention. Convincing.

Proof that safe doesn't have to mean alone.

I don't know that I've the reserves currently to make the case for her.

Makes me tired.

Of her. Of me.

I need an exit strategy.

I'm breaking up with myself.