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Mental Health

Dear Self Doubt,

Like a fire that catches the wind, you started small. But with every current of air, you inflamed into something that’s far above my reach. Far above my capacity to restrain. You’ve swept into every crevice of my being, making it impossible to diffuse the trail of lies that’s clothed my body for so long. Passion, clothed in insecurity. You are the straightjacket in which my mind has been inbound. Weighed down by the chains of incapability as I tussle and toil for just one moment of validation.

Because although these feet can run, you are not constrained to location.

Glued to the silhouette of my frame, you follow me like a shadow; casting doubt upon every interaction and thought my aging flesh and tired mind attempts to make. Seemingly abundant, and always weighty I feel you. For you’re the pounds to my far too large waist, holding the weight of all my insecurities, jiggling with annihilating reminders with every stride towards freedom I take.

Yes, you.

You’ve lived here for as long as I can remember.
You see me, but I only get to see the manifestation of you.
You’ve invaded my mind and body. A burglary of sorts, yet you’ve done your job well. Never having to hide each thing you’ve now broken and stained because the crime you’ve now committed cannot be constrained behind bars.
Stealing my humanity, you have now held me for so long that I forgot what it’s like to be free.

I wish you could understand what it’s like. What it’s like to have your mind claim the title of God and Enemy at the same time. With each word my mind speaks, I freeze. Anxiously afraid and unsure because I don’t know which thoughts to crucify.

Suddenly it’s easy to picture myself at the cross. Nailing Jesus to the wood beneath his frame, because at least then I’d be doing something.

I’m scared to think. For at the moment you broke into my mind you managed to guard the greatest gift of all humanity, vandalizing it with paint so thickly opaque that I can’t even see my own thoughts. Free will. The ability to think and choose.

Yes, you anxiety. You took that from me.
Because as much as I won’t think I know who to address this letter to, you’ve never formally introduced yourself.
So instead I’ll just say you.
I wish you could understand what it’s like to not even trust your own thoughts. To have your mind claim the title of enemy and saint at the same time.
I wish you could be the one bound in these chains.
I wish you were the one with handcuffs.
Ultimately, I just wish you could understand this binding reality you’ve put me in.
But you can’t.
So for now, I’ll just tell you.

If you like this article, check out: https://www.harnessmagazine.com/how-yoga-helped-me-reinvent-my-self-and-life/

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by sierrascottwrites

I'm a curious thinker and wonderer, writing about my experience of spirituality since deconstructing my once black and white evangelical framework. I write about the journey of finding wholeness within and am passionate about helping people uncover their true selves; to help own who they are live from a place of radical self-love and self-responsibility. Deconstructing the fear and shame woven within much of one's religious experience isn't easy, yet I hope through my transparency and words I can help people find a more holistic connection with both themselves, humanity, and the divine if they so choose. A connection where they can show up fully; free of shame, free of fear, and full of sweet, daring and radical love and self-compassion.


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