Meet My Monsters. *possible trigger warning*

Dark.
That is the only word that I can use to describe my mind.
Darkness with sudden bursts of blinding light.
Almost like fireworks going off in the vast night.
With those bursts of light comes the ability to see my monsters.
A hideous horde of my worst nightmares.
A gruesome monolith with grotesque beasts perched upon it.
Anxiety.
An ugly malnourished bird with one leg, sharp teeth, and hypnotic red eyes.
Sharing somewhat of a resemblance with a Dire Vulture.
Disgusting protruding legs and wings with talons at the ends.
With a scratchy voice and a sharp tongue.
It tells me, "Why are you still trying? You know you'll never get there."
Or, "What are you doing? Try harder! You keep fucking up!"
It's hot breath breathing down the back of my neck.
It's hot breath and cold wings enveloping me.
Always watching, always waiting for me to fuck up.

 
 ADHD
A hyperactive little monkey with three beady eyes.
With a high pitched voice and spirally fingers.  
Forcing my attention elsewhere.
Telling me, "go here!!"
"Wait no! Go there!"
Spinning me around and around in circles.
Overwhelming my senses and making me nauseous from the amount of effort I must exert  just to shut that little beast up.
Making the simplest tasks so tedious.
Immensely exhausting to the point where I don't even want to do it anymore.

Then we have the grotesque looking beast known as my B.D.D. (Body Dysmorphic Disorder)
A massive gluttonous slug with an under bite.
That speaks to me in a deep voice resembling that of a chain smoker.
Spewing lies about me.
Worse than a back stabbing best friend.
Mocking my thighs, my hips, and my breasts.
Telling me that I'll never be like the rest.
Thin, Curvy, Vivacious.
Beauty that I'll never achieve.
"What are you wearing?" It's sly little voice tells me.
"Look at that! You're so fat!! Your rolls have rolls, you ugly fat fuck!!"
Telling me I will never be good enough.
Never be small enough.
"YOU WILL NEVER BE BEAUTIFUL!! ALWAYS FLAWED!!!"
Making me so delusional that I start freak.
The cold air violently filing my lungs making it feel as if I am taking in razor blades.  Hot tears flowing down my face as I clutch my head, and silently scream,
"Shut up.. SHUT UP!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!"
Causing me to snap and punch the fucking mirror!!
Shards embedded in my hand.
Blood seeps around the crystals in my fist, coagulating itself.
Still taking in sharp breaths, hair in disarray, I look into what remains of the mirror and he tells me,
"No one will ever want you looking like that. Clean yourself up, you dumb slut."

Then we have the king.
Depression.
A beautiful looking creature, with piercing blue eyes, and a seductive voice as smooth as honey.
The only tell tale sign that he is a beast is the forked tongue that proves he is indeed a snake.
The diviner of all my misfortune.
The Beezleboss of my eternal damnation.
He's been my "friend" for years.
Cradling me in a comforting void whispering dark words into my ears.  
Making them sound so enticing
Telling me that being alone is what's best for me.
Letting the darkness embrace me in it's depths.
Slowly breaking my will to live.
Telling me my every breath is a waste.
The one telling me my life isn't worth it.
"Go back to bed. What's one day?"
Then that one day turns into two.
Two days turn into three and the next thing you know two weeks have gone by
and you're still in bed staring at the ceiling.
Feeling numb.
While the only thought that consumes your mind is, "End it."

All of my lovely little monsters enjoy the banquet that is my anguish.
My soul consumed by the eternal enferno is my life.