Tortured by Doubt

I was going to start this blog post off with a little sarcastic quip about the weather, but my heart's just not in it today. Sorry guys, I guess you'll just have to wonder what magical sentence was going to pour out of my mouth about snow and freezing temperatures. 

Yesterday was one of the roughest days I've had in a while, only to continue on into today. That's really all you need to know about my life at the moment, and sharing any further details will only send me reeling right back into a place I don't ever want to be again.

To avoid any emotional outpouring, I'm instead going to be slightly passive-aggressive and talk about doubt. I've mentioned it before, here and there, so I'm sorry for the redundancy. 


Doubt is a vicious animal. It's a horrific little creature that seeks out penetrable flesh to sink its fangs into and infect with its turmoil. Any morsel of skin that's left uncovered is vulnerable to its attack, but nothing feeds doubt more than an active mind. 

Doubt will bite down on the thick, pulsing lobes of the brain, twisting it's sharp knife-like teeth deeper and deeper into the pliable surface. The toxin flows from the bite with ease, each cell becoming corrupted; every thought, every situation, every intention a fatality to the poison. 

Even the best situations fall victim to it's venom. Happiness, joy and love quickly become tainted by the poisonous fumes. The brain starts to paint illusions in splendid detail, twisting the prettiest thoughts into something obscure and murky. 

Its evil knows no bounds. 

Once doubt spreads, it's nearly impossible to cure. No amount of words or promises can soothe the sting left over from its infectious bite. The toxins linger in every crevice, a searing reminder of the pain that started it all in the first place. Sure, maybe after a while it's possible for something to suck some of the venom out of the sores, but is it ever really gone? 

Does doubt ever really relinquish it's hold on the brain? 

Or is it always there, waiting patiently for the right thought, the right situation to infiltrate with its torment? 


I guess the only answer to those questions is: we'll see. 


- A