Self-Sabotage
“ I don’t want to do this today.” That’s the conversation always circling in my head—a quiet fight with myself just to do it. The hardest part is going. I can’t. I won’t. Please don’t make me. I know I’m blessed—so lucky, really—but where did the desire go? It’s lost. Gone. I let it slip away. Is it 5 o’clock yet? No, it’s not even nine. Go without me. I’ll follow. I say that, but I won’t. I know I won’t. The hardest part is walking out the door.
Are you going tomorrow? Of course, I say. Lying. Not because I want to—just good intentions that will go bad. Prisoner in my own mind. You don’t want to hear about it today? That’s fine. I’m okay. I’m not.
I want to go home. But I am home. Alone, in a house full of people. Knots twist in my stomach. Something feels off. I want to visit my mom. I never go. My dad misses me. I miss you too. I never show. I want to. I mean to. I don’t.
I’m so lucky. I know. I have no right to feel this way.
My kids are watching. They see everything. I’m a role model. I’m failing. Do as I say, not as I do. The dread hangs on me like wet clothes. I need help. Maybe I need something. But nothing’s missing. Everything’s perfect. That’s the worst part. No enemies, just me. Regret. I didn’t go again. I’m sorry. Always sorry. Crying, but I can’t feel a thing. Lie. I feel everything. Too much. Self-sabotage—it’s a thing.
Copyright © Rachel Vernon | Year Posted 2025
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