It roars loudest during the evenings and when I’m hungry. And it knows what it wants. It’s determined. It’s bossy and it is a monster. There’s nothing closer to me than my monster. I have more conversations with it than with anyone else (not literally… I’m not that insane). At present I’d probably be lost without it. Life would seem like a fairy tale. It tells me what to eat. It tells me to quit at everything I do. It tells me to forget about it, forget it all! It tells me to partake of so many annoying deconstructive things that I have a difficult time functioning. I’m practically ALWAYS fighting with it.
For a long time I’ve thought this little buddy was normal. I figured that everyone must deal with their own version. Christian’s call it flesh. Psychologists call it chemical imbalance or deep rooted repressed issues. Moms call it a battle that will only make you stronger. I call it a monster that’s stolen joy, peace, happiness, comfort, and sanity from my life for at least 20 years. I’m beyond sick of my monster and I don’t want it anymore. I’m also no longer ok with just calling it normal. I fight with myself all day long. I feel like a green hairy little 3 year old with sharp teeth and yellow eyes (this monster is starting to look like the Grinch (Microsoft word just automatically capitalized Grinch)) is trapped inside of me. The 3 year old beast is stronger than I am or at least it’s really good at weakening me to the point of getting whatever it wants.
I don’t want to eat sugar all the time. I genuinely want to eat healthy, to feel healthy, to be healthy. But my monster wants all the sugar it can sink its sharp little teeth into. I want to be a runner. I want to exercise. I want to enjoy the feeling of my lungs working hard, breathing in deeply the air of satisfaction and endurance. The monster wants to sit ALL OF THE TIME, oh and to sleep the rest of the time. I want to be productive, do stuff, create, increase, LIVE! My monster tells me that it’s all too difficult, pointless, and so much more worthwhile to just ignore those passions.
Honestly I don’t feel like people would look at me and say, “Hey, there’s someone who struggles just to live.” I’m normal right? But this thing, this constant pull to failure, laziness, self pity, and depression is driving me insane. I struggle regularly to be happy. During most evenings I’m angry or really ridiculously depressed for no reason… literally no reason. Every strong intense desire I have for anything is negated by the monster who lives in me and owns the exact opposite desire. If I don’t want to eat chocolate for a day that’s the only thing the monster wants. If I have a $5 budget for a day, just because, for no other reason than that budget the monster wants to spend $100 that day. It’s this constant pull to do the exact opposite of what I really want no matter what that might be. And it’s not just a little pull, a thought that crosses my mind or continual questioning of whether I’ve chosen my battles wisely, it’s an all out war that weakens me, drains me, brings me to resemble a pile of mush and then overcomes me with a monstrous victory… concluding in my, once again, failure.
I have a monster. This ugly little thing is preventing me from being me. I’m no longer ok with calling it normal. I’m NOT going to take drugs because I firmly believe that feeding the monster to keep it quite isn’t the best solution. I’m currently devising a plan… my favorite thing to do (although never usually successful). BUT it cannot hurt to try.
And thus I leave you with a very heartfelt blog and I feel I must say to the infantile green thing, “So long sucka! You’re not wanted here any longer!”
Then Jonah prayed to the LORD his God from the fish's belly. Jonah 2:1
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