My hands shake as I type and I feel like a weight is bearing down on my shoulders; there's a little goblin sitting on my back, pulling strings. He's controlling, manipulating, bullying. I'm strong and determined and try to shake him off, but he leers over me with an evil grin and a sinister cackle emitting from his dripping mouth. And then I remember I'm sensitive and the strength I felt dissipates leaving me bowing under the pressure of the strings.
I don't ask for a simple life anymore, or a life of true contentment; I've learnt it doesn't exist. I'm the mother of a teenager with issues and the daughter of a woman who can't cope with any issues. I'm sad and fearful and down on my luck. I'm the wife of a man who puts principles first and can't say no to anyone except me; I'm the sister of a beautiful woman who needs me but doesn't know how much I need her also.
It's warm in my cave, and comforting. I can huddle into the corner and sit in the darkness and talk to my dad. He listens to me, always. He visited me last night; he stood near the curtains and tapped to tell me he was there. The night before he switched the telephone back on after I'd turned it off at the wall socket. He watches me cry and reaches out and lights up my cave with hope.
I know I'm a loner, always have been, probably always will be. If the little goblin left me, I'd be completely alone. Maybe his company is better than none.