How I Fought Myself From the World of Darkness

Chapter 4

This cubical of my soul has two doors on either side. One door has bright colors all around it, but it is shut tight. You can hear something making a thumping sound and banging. The other door is dark and gloomy. The paint is peeling off the walls, and it is wide open. Many things are going through this opened door; it doesn't matter whether they are good or bad things, they just continue to go in. some of these things that are going in through this door were things I wish I could put a stop to. Still, they kept going in, not because I didn't know they were going in, but because I couldn't stop them from going in. Can I really control how people see me? Can I really control the minds of others around me? It is even difficult for me to control my own mind. Sometimes I try so hard to control my own mind and prevent it from going in a particular direction, but this mind of mine keeps going in that direction where I had always tried to restrict it from going. If I can't get my mind under control if it is so difficult for me to control my own mind, how much more difficult would it be to try to control the minds of others? Through this dark, gloomy door that is open, the negative words are being thrown in, hitting my soul and abusing her. My soul feels so much pained by the abuse she keeps getting, but she can't just do much about it at the time. This continued for an extended period of time until I started asking myself this particular question which started making me see things differently.

I started asking myself, where are those words coming from? At first, I would say they were coming from those around me, this could be literally correct, but with time, I got to find out that I wasn't really correct with my assumptions; it was me. I am the one throwing those words inside. I am the one that would chuck them at my spirit and abuse myself. Yes, I am the one that troubled my spirit; I am the one abusing myself. Why is it this way? Because I allowed what people say about me to get to me. There is hardly anything that one does that people wouldn't get to talk about. If nobody is talking about you, perhaps you are nobody. I believe I am somebody; that is why people are talking about me, that is why people keep throwing things at me, and that is why people keep saying things about me. If I were nobody, what I do wouldn't affect other people; people wouldn't see the need to say mean things to me, and people wouldn't feel the need to call me bad names. So, no matter what, because I am someone important, they will keep saying things about me, and some of the things they say about me could be very mean. This is what life is all about. Allowing these mean things to get to me is my weakness. This is where I ended up being the one who brought about the problem I have seen myself having. I should have braced myself; I should have built a thick skin to stand against all they had been throwing at me, but I allowed weakness to envelop me, and I ended up being the one that abused myself.