I'm speaking of demons. The kind that have been tormenting me since as long as I can remember.
Fear Demons that lurk in the recesses of my mind. The ones that come forward to tap into my almost pleasant day with a reminder that something more sinister exists in the world.
Or, perhaps, it is my reality.
When I was little, I felt I had no choice. I would scream and run. I would curl up in a ball in my bed. I would read book after book to escape.
When I got older, I learned how to cope: Exercise, a healthy diet, baths, meditation, and an occasional piece of chocolate. Write something funny! Escape!
Now I'm thinking I shouldn't run anymore. I'll invite the demons in and offer them tea.
I wonder what they'll say?
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