I’m Scared of Myself

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I’m scared of myself. Not in the way people might think. Not in a loud, dramatic way. But in a quiet, unsettling way. The kind where you realise the place you’re supposed to feel safest - your own mind - doesn’t feel safe anymore.

I’m at war with my own thoughts. And the hardest part is that there’s no escape. You can walk away from people. You can leave situations. You can shut a door. But you can’t leave your own mind. So when it turns against you, there’s nowhere to go.

Some days it feels like two versions of me are constantly fighting. One trying to be rational, trying to stay grounded, trying to hold on. And the other… louder, more convincing, more persistent, it picks apart everything. Everything I say. Everything I do. Everything I am.

It tells me things I don’t want to believe. That I’m not enough. That I’m too much. That I’m failing.  That I’ll always feel like this. And no matter how much I try to challenge it, it doesn’t go away. It just circles back. Again. And again. And again.

That’s what makes it scary. Not just the thoughts themselves, but how constant they are. How they don’t switch off. How they follow me into quiet moments, into conversations, into the middle of the night. There’s no pause. No peace. Just a constant internal noise I can’t escape.

I don’t trust my own mind the way I used to. I question my thoughts. My reactions. My feelings. I don’t know what’s real and what’s just the voice in my head twisting things. And that’s exhausting. Living in a state of second-guessing yourself.

Sometimes I wish I could step outside of my own head for just a moment. Just to feel stillness. Just to feel quiet. Just to feel like myself again - whoever that is now.

Because right now, it doesn’t feel like me. It feels like I’m sharing space with something I don’t recognise. Something that’s louder than me. Something that’s harder to ignore.

And yet… I’m still here. Still fighting. Even on the days where the thoughts feel overwhelming. Even on the days where I feel like I’m losing the battle. I haven’t stopped trying.

Maybe that’s the part I need to hold onto. That even though I’m scared of my own mind, I am not my thoughts. I am the one noticing them. The one questioning them. The one trying to push back against them.

And maybe that means something. Maybe that means I’m not as lost as I feel. Maybe it means that even in the middle of this war, there’s still a part of me that wants peace.

I’m scared of myself. Of my thoughts. Of how loud they’ve become. Of how much power they seem to have. But I’m still here. Still fighting. Even when it feels like the hardest battle I’ve ever had to face is the one inside my own mind.

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