Pep talk after pep talk and you believe words can put you up just as it’s capable of bringing you down. For once, screw that and you know you’re going to make it. And you can.
But what you call nightmares aren’t nightmares. What call ghosts aren’t ghosts either. They’re not monsters that hide under your bed and haunts you at 2AM. They’re not bad dreams that would eat up your rest in the middle of the night and frustrate you for wanting to sleep so bad; no matter what you do, you just can’t do anything about it.
The stress, the pressure, the drama…all of them, they’re real. Suffice to say that they could not hence be your fears either. But they’re you.
Basically it’s you.
You are the stress. You are the pressure. You are the drama. You are what haunts you so long as you fail to control yourself. You become the nightmare, the monster… You become them if you keep letting it kick in over and over until you lose the drive to keep going.
Imagine that. Perhaps suicide might not sift in your mind but it doesn’t salvage you from the dark side, the realm were all the impossible and possible don’t happen. And it’s not a great place. It’s like getting trapped in an eternal swamp that would keep eating you whole. But is that what you would keep choosing? Shit getting into you and pull you away from everything that’s important, from everything that matters?
I remember someone saying that even the darkest hour only lasts for sixty minutes. You know, she was right. And you know deep down that you should not let that last any longer than it should.
Otherwise, it could kill you. It could kill the real you. You don’t want that. “YOU” got to live.