Worry

I drown in my negativity, each thought pulling me deeper. Yet I uselessly flail my arms.

I feel ready to give up and let the sea take me as each tide brings another wave of anxiety.

I am at war with myself and each Swell grows greater until I forget why I should struggle at all.

‘What’s the point?’ My head cries out and I almost agree.

The battle has begun for another day and I feel the angry bite of each wave. So many taunting, whispered words.

They fill my head with their lies yet they sound so true, ‘I never will be good-enough.’

But as I let the surf crash in something changes inside; a flash of power, a need to push on.

I remember that my love is stronger than this worry.

The waves keep coming but they have lost their bite as I rise to the surface and gasp in victory.

I fought and won and now the real work begins.

I stare at the vast white and the whispered words cry louder.

‘I’ll never be good enough.’ ‘What’s the point?’

But I drown out their cries with the pounding rhythm of my words flowing forth.

I drown not only the words but the ugly being itself.

So the war goes on, I won this round but I know better than to think worry to be defeated.

Each day I must make the choice, a choice to take the hard road and fight.

 

This is from a writing exercise suggested by another blogger.

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