Monsters (a scene)

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(When I get sad, I don’t come up for a while.) It’s true. I don’t. I have to take at least a few hours to myself, let me think or cry or just stare numbly at a wall, the empty pit inside me threatening to swallow me up. What’s wrong anna? Nothing, but everything, all at the same time. I don’t know what to do when I get like this. If I distract myself, sure I’ll get a little happier, but it will just visit me again at a later time, when its dark and no one’s around to stop me from getting into the beer in the fridge. When no one can stop me from digging into my skin with my own fingernails. To save me from myself. Everyone has their own monsters, I heard mom say once. She’s right. And for a while I tried to figure out what my monsters were. But then tonight I realized, I don’t have numerous monsters. I only have one. Me.