Introspection

Night

I'm writing this in the dead of night.

I'm supposed to be sleeping but instead, I have fright.

Of course I have to fight this fight.

Every day, I pretend all is good. But no one knows the hidden battle. I battle against my own brain, literally and metaphorically.

My thoughts attack me. And so does my brain.

But no one must know that pain.

I'm scared. Scared that it will happen again.

I tell myself I'm not good enough. Because I'm not.

My brain will never heal. Ever. Doctor told me that himself.

But I must ignore these thoughts, put them on a mental shelf.

Because God holds my fate, good or not, I need to put these thoughts away and keep on moving.

But I can't.
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This didn't really rhyme. Sorry. I tried. This is about my epilepsy. How it bothers me frequently but I have to pretend that everything is good. I wrote this at 12:49 pm btw. Guess I should try to sleep.
Cya next time I guess.