Seeds

It pecked at me like little birds with little beaks--pinching, but not necessarily hurting. It pulled on my stomach, which gave easily and felt open and empty, loose and weighted.
It entered my mind as a little thought, a little seed, growing, nurtured by my own self-doubt, growing in the warm light of humiliation.
The jealousy began to eat away at me.
I wasn't this person. Well. Apparently I was this person. But I didn't want to be this person--my inner self just told me I could be. It said to me, "of course that person thinks everyone is better than you." I had little faith for my recovery in my own mind's eye.
This couldn't be healthy. My mind had this natural inclination to hold on to negative thoughts. It blew them up like over-sized, gaudy party balloons while it laughed in the background, a grinning, malicious clown.
The worst part out of all this was that the clown was me, the clown was my own mind. How could I make progress against myself?
This war was indeed the only war I was technically in charge of, and yet...
It felt so out of my control.
The discipline, the grace to let things go. To trust the men in my life, and to trust myself ultimately was not there. I felt my hand slip a little, ready to let go of my life and love.
In these moments when I felt weak, and meaningless, I tried to hold on. I tried to remember what it felt like to feel the full weight and importance of my existence, as if I was influential and real.
I knew that I could, I knew I had before, I knew I was capable.
But in this moment, I sat in the dark, trying to sleep. Trying to will away the feelings of inadequacy. Trying to be at peace.
Waiting for the dawn I knew must be coming.