The Monster Within

It’s happening again. 

Please, God, no, not again. 

Why did he have to say what he said, and do what he did? The choice is not mine, and I have no part in what is unfolding, or what is about to ensue.

I feel myself slipping away, deep into the abyss of my mind, unable to speak, unable to control the rise of the monster residing within. My triggers are many, and my assets are few, and the hideous beast is unleashed upon a soft and unsuspecting world. 

It strikes at the closest target at hand, closest to heart. Words like venom infect and spread, with a bite that goes straight to the bone. The attack is swift, cunning, preemptive, defensive and offensive. The monster within knows just what to say to cause the most damage, to make him sorry for poking the wound. 

I am helpless to stop it, as I watch from a distance, a background character in my own life. Return is not an option until the beast declares it so, and acquiesces to my pleads to allow my existence. I am the pilot of this vessel only when it is determined that the threat has subsided, and regular life resumes. 

When I finally come back to myself, blinking warily into full consciousness, he is there, my love, my partner, staring at me with horror painted upon his face. I can hardly remember all that was said in my absence, but his memory is crystal clear and full of accusations. He threatens to leave me, who could I treat him so poorly, what kind of person treats their spouse that way? I try to explain that I don’t remember, that I was not myself, but he will hear none of it, and storms out of the house. 

When I am alone, I reflect on what happened, an all-too-familiar scene. One that has played out over and over, against my will. How can he not understand that I have no ability to cage the leviathan once it is unleashed? How can he not fathom his part in the dance, how he entices the evil inside to throw caution to the wind and show its full form? 

If it were up to me, I would never say an ill word against him, or cause him to suffer such insidious insults. But the decision belongs to the monster within, they call the shots, and I am only a spectator along for the ride. 

*****

The blank face is what does it, more than the disparaging attacks to my character, or the spite in her voice as she speaks. It is the neutral void of the look in her eye that calls it forth from inside me, and I can control it no longer. I am but prey to a predator, a host to a parasite, and have no more say over the next course of my actions than an animal forced into a corner. 

How dare she insinuate that she has no memory of what she just said, only moments ago? Does she think I am so naive as to simply take her at her word, and move on with life as if nothing happened? I cannot allow that, and neither can the creature that dwells in my mind, waiting for a chance to jump in and take over. 

It isn’t my fault or my doing when the curses spew forth from my lips, hurling endlessly toward her dumbstruck countenance. She has brought this upon herself, with her taunts and her prodding, and the monster has seen its opening. I am powerless to diffuse the bomb once it has been set, and all I can do is watch it explode, then pick up the pieces that are left in its wake. 

I am destined to do the bidding of my cantankerous keeper, and allow it to defend my ever-shrinking virtues. There is no hope to contain the monster within, and instead I bow to the gift of its perceived protections. 

*****

I listen in the shadows as they argue and fight, over what I am not completely certain. They don’t realize I am standing here, but surely they must know how their voices ring through the house. I am aware of every ugliness, every jaded response, as the monsters step forward to attack one another. And though the advances are not pointed toward me, I still feel the sting of the blows as they land. 

It is then that I notice it, small and still forming, the anger and fear giving birth to a demon, and I can do nothing but allow it to happen. No one has shown me a way to prevent it, and it feels good to have someone watching out for my needs. It’s so easy to hand over the reins, to give way to the volcano of resentment and bitterness and disgust. It is effortless to allow it to crust over my soul and shelter me within its walls. 

How could anyone blame me, it is not my fault! I am powerless under its commanding pressure. The beast has sworn allegiance to me, if I only allow it to come and go as it pleases, not fighting the urge to scream and shout when attacked. 

In many ways it is a relief to be freed from the burden of choice, as I kick, punch, and swear my way through the pain. The monster within gives me solace and strength, when I would otherwise feel powerless. There is still time to fight it, and not relent to its potency, but without reinforcements, it is so much easier to succumb. 

*****

I feed on their anxieties, their sorrows, their ills, all of the things which bring them down to their knees. The energy given to me is exhilarating, and in return I offer a lifetime of walls, of borders, of emotionless, unfeeling barriers to emotional trauma. No one can deny that my defenses are effective, which is why so few even attempt to shake me once I’ve dug in my heels. 

It is not my fault once my services have been chosen, and I am not in control. My host must first choose to render my powers by imbibing on the emotions that sustain my existence.I am the monster within, I have no more power than what I am given, no more dominance than what is allowed. I will continue to chew, swallow, and consume all that they offer, and grow stronger with each passing day.