Sometimes, you think the fear will drive you mad. Then you remember, it already has. The voices in your head. They are part of you, down to the bone. They have been with you since your childhood, helping you know what to say, telling you stories.
But they have been corrupted. Turned against you. The inner voice of confidence, telling you that you could do this, bows its head in shame and slinks into the shadows, its last words haunting you, “You will never be good enough. Give up. You’ve already failed.”
And yet, somehow, you hold on. Whether it is the need of others, or simply spite, that keeps you going, you know not. Perhaps it is neither, perhaps it is the call of some greater being which compels you to live.
You know not.
You only know you must hold on.