Voices

There are two voices inside my head. One is a record-player of all my worst moments. It is the retrospective realisation that I have made too rash an action and hurt someone. It is the sting of broken relationships, the turbulence of my emotions and the whiplash of regret.

It is the addict and cliff-diver, and the snake that sends Eve into self-destruction. It’s Eve, and the apple. It comes all at once, like a river that leads into an ocean.

It drips with loathing, and scathes and cuts. It tells me I am worthless. It leaves me stranded at sea, and tells me I am not worth saving.

But there is another voice inside my head, the one that sings harmonies of the kindness of others. My disembodied voice stares back at me, brazen and undefeated. And it jabs a finger at my chest, and says:

You can do better.

You have been better. You will be better.

Don’t you fucking give up now.

And my brain is right there with me. Telling me to keep up my good habits. To ditch the bad ones. To eat clean again, get proper sleep, stay physically fit. Stay mentally sharp.

It tells me with undeniable logic to write a to-do list every day that I can actually achieve. Achieve it. Repair relationships, starting with just the one. And to keep pushing forward.

That voice is the champion of my mind, my most loyal defender. It is always there, never forgotten. It resonates loudest in the dark.