The monsters are inside my head
The Monsters Inside My Head
The sunlight streams into my dorm room, waking me from a restless sleep. I squint at the alarm clock — 9:37am. I’ve missed my first class. Again. I groan and pull the covers over my head, wanting nothing more than to hide from the day.
But I know I can’t avoid it forever. The monsters are already stirring inside my head, threatening to overwhelm me. Anxiety, self-doubt, depression. My constant companions.
I drag myself out of bed, my limbs heavy. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and cringe. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles, greasy hair. I look how I feel — exhausted. Defeated.
I wonder for the hundredth time why I’m even here. What made me think I could handle college? I was barely keeping it together in high school. Only my parents’ encouragement and pressure drove me to apply. Now here I am, drowning among strangers.
The monsters cackle, sinking their claws into my fraying confidence. “You don’t belong here,” they sneer. “Just give up already.”
I shake my head, trying to clear their voices. “I have to try,” I tell myself. But even I don’t believe it.
My phone buzzes with concerned messages from friends, asking where I am. I don’t have the energy to respond. They wouldn’t understand anyway.
I force myself through the motions — brushing my teeth, washing last night’s pizza grease from my face, throwing on whatever clothes are least dirty. Already the monsters are dragging at my limbs, urging me back to the refuge of sleep.
Outside my door studentsbustle past, chatting and laughing on their way to class. Their cheer grates against my gloom. Once, I was like them. Hopeful. Excited for what the future held. But the monsters stole that from me.
Finally I stumble into the dining hall, grabbing a cold cup of coffee. It’s bitter and stale, but the caffeine promises to hold the monsters at bay, at least for a little while. Enough to get through this day. One day at a time — it’s the only way I know how to survive.
Between classes I seek out quiet corners where I can hide from the crowds. Their energy and enthusiasm exhaust me. My mind races as I replay every awkward interaction, every time I stumbled over my words. The monsters take those small mistakes and magnify them until they’re all I can see.
All around me students talk animatedly about internship prospects, career plans, dreams for the future. Meanwhile I’m just trying to keep my head above water.
Sometimes I catch questioning looks from peers as I isolate myself again and again. They must wonder what’s wrong with me. Why I’m so quiet, so strange. Little do they know about the monsters lurking underneath my skin, poisoning my thoughts.
Nights are the hardest. In the still darkness of my room the monsters are loudest, their voices echoing in the emptiness. Their claws dig into my mind, ripping open old wounds.
Ugly thoughts march through my head on repeat. You’re worthless. You don’t deserve to be here. No one actually likes you — they just pretend because they feel bad for you.
I toss and turn restlessly, eyes squeezed shut as if I can somehow block out the whispers. Finally I stumble out of bed and pace my small room as my breath turns rapid and shallow. The monsters wrap their claws around my lungs, squeezing until I can hardly draw air. Panic rises, threatening to drown me completely.
Desperate, I go to the one place that has offered me shelter. I sink to my knees beside my bed, bowing my head. “Please give me strength for one more day,” I pray tearfully. The God who seems so distant most days feels close now in my hour of need. A faint peace settles over my spirit. The claws retract, if only slightly.
It’s enough. I crawl back into bed, exhausted. As I finally drift off, a small ember of hope remains alive in my heart. This battle isn’t over yet.
Morning comes again, far too soon. As sunlight filters in once more, so do the monsters’ sinister whispers. Self doubt, insecurity, dread — my ever present companions. I want to scream in frustration. Will I ever be free of them? Or will they haunt me all my days?
Somehow I force my hollow body to class again, teeth gritted, limbs like lead. One foot in front of the other when all I want to do is lie down and give in.
But those small embers remain — flickering hopes keeping the monsters at bay one more day. My family, my faith, my writing that frees my imprisoned thoughts. Tiny lights that promise me there are still good things left, no matter how deeply the monsters try to bury them. No matter how loud the voices in my head, I cannot let those fragile flames be extinguished. My life depends on it.
So I keep walking steadily, refusing to collapse, even when the monsters’ claws threaten to cut my legs out from under me. This is my battle. This is my life. And though the fight is hard and lonely, I will keep pushing back the darkness one more day. The monsters may lurk inside my mind, but they will not conquer it. I will find a way to tame them, even if it takes everything I have. This is my vow, this is my hope. One more day.
I hold my head high, ignoring their snarls, and walk into the light.
