She is incredibly subtle.
She takes ordinary thoughts, and through small playback loops, makes me believe they’re more important than they are. If they’re in the forefront of my mind then they must be important. They must have significance. Wait. No. It’s just her.
She takes ordinary tasks and, through distraction and manipulation, makes me believe they are more difficult than they seem. I’ll take a shower in a second. I should probably shower now that it’s midday but it’s midday and I don’t feel like I have the energy to. I’ve wasted my day.
I don’t want to shower anymore.
I can’t do it.
I can’t do anything now I haven’t showered.
Wait. No. Of course I can shower, I’ve still got the whole day.
She runs through my blood like a mist. Soft, silent and invisible. She creeps in, wearing slippers to deafen her approach. Without even noticing her, she’s stepping into my shoes, walking my walk and speaking my words.
It takes a lot to realise that it’s not me anymore.