Angels & Devils

“All these voices in my head get loud,
I wish that I could shut them out
I’m sorry that I let you down…”
~NF – ‘Let You Down’

Gnawing on a corner of my brain is a tiny, red devil. He marked the walls in black crayon. Sketchy wormholes and depictions of chaos are his pieces of art that I’d love to rip down. But I am stuck. Unable to evict this monster from my broken mind. The days begin to pass in a blur of red. I’m caught between guilt and an unapologetic attitude, because half of me knows that the smoke coming out of my ears is a bit dramatic. But the other half of my brain – the one being destroyed by the little devil – is yelling to me that this anger is completely rational.
I am ruthless. I am a mess.
I am on the floor. I am crying.

These are the moments right after my brain has flipped one of ten switches. It’s like riding a freight train and coming to an immediate stop. All the emotions buried behind the anger come rushing out like the Hoover Damn has cracked.
I am angry. I am sad.
I am calm. I am a mess.
Solutions are calling me, whispering about quick fixes that are habitual, and I have to remind myself that these roads lead to dead ends.

Trying to explain these frequent changes is like trying to make an obvious fib, the truth. When people listen to these problems, I catch a look in their eyes. The look that says: “Everything would be so much easier if you weren’t so moody.”¬†And the red devil takes a break from killing my brain to jump up and down in agreement. I am shaking my head in frustration because it’s true. It’s true, it’s true, it’s true. The devil beats this thinking into the angel that has been sitting in the corner with her knees tucked tightly between her arms. Eventually, the angel calls defeat and the devil goes back to gnawing on my brain.
I am the devil. I am the angel.
I am these two at once.
What am I to do?