I hold myself back, in my mind. I hold back my mental arms, restraining myself from spiralling down into self-loathing. I fail. I fail like I often do. This torrent of emotions sweep me away like a log during a flood; I can do nothing. I am helpless as these things, these demons run amok and rampage through my soul causing damage unrepairable. I’m bewildered. I’m confused. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m ugh.

Why do I find it so hard not do dwell on the past? I know what Rafiki said “The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it or learn from it.” But what would you do if the past keeps haunting you, as if begging you to dwell on it? Imagine someone stabbed you with a knife and your willpower (imagine them as your hands) is the only thing preventing that someone from shanking you again. That is how not dwelling on the past feels like, and every time I get shanked more than once.

Of all the things God made, this is what I question most. These emotions, these feelings. I mean, why? Why even curse us with them? Are they just crosses for us to carry through this life? Are they another means for sanctification? Are they something we must conquer? But…what if we don’t? What if we can’t? What if they finally outweigh and ultimately crush us, our spirits? What if we become tired of carrying them? What if we fail to be sanctified by them? What if they conquer us? What does one do? What do I do? I am at the last vestige of reason and patience with myself. The philosophers promised me that the mind conquers the emotions but it didn’t. Slowly but surely I am being devoured by these things that fester and feast on my soul. I know no longer what to do.