Kiran Speaks

I’m caught in an endless loophole—trapped in a moment in time that plays over and over again.
Oh, don’t worry, I made it out of it today. Now I await the next episode to come, whether that’s in two weeks, months, or even a year. It always comes because that’s what intrusive thoughts do. They come in like a butterfly, briefly landing before fluttering away.
Oh, my bad. I should specify that that’s how it goes for normal people.
For me, it’s quite different. Oh boy, it sure is quite different.

Stage 1—The Trigger
I start off with a trigger—something small that truly has nothing to do with me. It could be a post on social media, a comment spoken in passing, or a word that aligns with the inner self-hate I have set up for myself. I try to contain it and catch the bullet between my teeth before it swims up to my brain. Sometimes it works. Most times it’s too late—I’ve already given it the benefit of the doubt.

Stage 2—The Oracle
Then we have the oracle speak—wait, is it me? She whispers a word into my ear, and I see a vision of the future—the end of my world as I know it because things are always doomed to fail and collapse, wreaking havoc within me and outside of me. The catastrophic prophecy that lives in my brain sometimes feels like it’s threatening to become a reality, and it would only become that if I let it consume me—the way it pretty much already does.

Stage 3—The Reality Check
My overinflated sense of paranoia makes me think that enemies are in every corner—first of all, what enemies? Second, with that level of self-importance, you’d think the bar for self-esteem would match, but for every bit that narrow view rises, the self-love meter falls down further. When reality kicks in, logic follows and tells me that I do deserve good things—love, happiness, and peace. There are no enemies—only me.

I wait for Stage 4, because I live through the first three again and again. I tire now and wish to rest. An intrusive thought creeps into my brain: “Is there even a Stage 4?” I let it sit for a moment before letting it go. I tell it one thing that makes it fade away.

“Stage 4 will be The Next Chapter, and it’s not written yet.”