Most people, I know, has a demon inside him that either horrifies him or criticize him vigorously.

My demon is a Nazi army officer. She tells me what a stupid and useless person I am, how ridiculous I am, especially, when I try so hard and get nothing at the end. She laughs at me when she sees my trials and errors, when I fall and can hardly make myself stand again.

She is vicious. She gets her buzz from seeing me fail and struggle. She feels powerful by seeing me fall. ‘I told you so!’

For a while I thought, all my troubles and hardship was because of this ruthless world that does not spare anybody where you fight until you basically die of exhaustion. But now I know, that it is not the surrounding world that kills me but the Nazi inside. Though not intentionally.

Nothing stops my inner bitch. She drives me up the wall and squeezes me until I give in, I give up and fall. In some ways, I fight her when I fight the world. I created her to protect me but now she turned on me trying to run my every wake moment, to have control over me.

She scares the hell out of me with her viciousness. She stands behind me with one eyebrow raised, with a barbarous grin on her face. She stands and a waits for me to screw up then she says ‘you see, I told you! Stand up! Rub off the dirt from your trousers and wipe off your tears! No tear is worth it! Be a big girl! Shake off the pain of your failure and move on! Stop being so sensitive and earnest! Only the toughest and meanest can survive this plane! Get a grip on yourself!’

That’s when I get angry with myself. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known better, I shouldn’t have tried, I should have listened to her when she said, ‘this world will give you nothing, your dreams are like an odour in the wind will be blown away each time you remember them. You better forget them. Look at the harsh reality of your existence and accept it for what it is: Misery.’

Actually, she tries to protect me from failure, but eventually she only makes me miserable and feel like a total failure, who may seem tough in the world, but at the end of the day, is only a scared child.

And this is the other person inside, this wallflower. This lost child, without any sense of direction on her own but with lots of curiosity and oodles of fun.

They don’t get along and I feel schizophrenic. One says, ‘let’s go, let’s give it a try, let’s discover the world and have lots of fun with it, while the other stands there grim faced with a shadow hanging above her saying ‘go and see how the world destroys you, my child!’

And this goes on every day, I live in constant contradictions. I am either high and hyper or low and miserable depending on which personality of mine is having her day.