I am cowering in the trenches, covered in mud and sweat, the efforts of this fight having taxed me beyond my capacity. My eyelids clench shut as another wave of darkness howls over my head, whipping my hair and clothes in a torrent that drags on for what feels like hours. Despite my closed eyes, bright flashes of light still manage to seep through, followed by cracks of thunder, wracking my body with jolts of fear. Everything hurts, inside and out, and all I want is to crawl into a hole and hide from the violent storm, to finally give up on this constant battle.

When the storm finally subsides, I am completely exhausted and shiver violently as all my tensed muscles suddenly release their hold on me. I let out a huge sigh and my head slumps back, resting on the wall of the trench. However, this reprieve doesn’t bring me the relief I truly need, for I can hear them… plodding ever closer in the rain and mud, laser-focused on my hiding spot.

The demons that hunt me vary in size and strength, each uglier and scarier than the next. I don’t need to see them to know. I’ve fought them so many times that I could count the hairs on their heads if asked. I look frantically to my left and right, hoping to find a way out of this. I don’t have the strength left to draw my sword, but maybe I could somehow get away for a short time. Maybe I could distract them with something. I can’t take another beatdown, which is what this would be if they find me again.

Tears start to stream down my face as despair begins to overwhelm every fiber of my being. I am alone. I can’t seem to find a single saving grace anywhere. I’m exhausted. I haven’t enjoyed the warmth of sunshine on my face in so long that I’ve forgotten what it felt like. I would kill to taste the sweet bitterness of a hot cup of coffee and actually enjoy it. A sharp ache hits my heart as I wish desperately for the soft embrace of a cat purring on my shoulder. Whimpering between sobs, I do my best to wipe the snot and tears from my face, the grime on my sleeve smearing across it.

These tiny memories of the joy I used to be able to feel gives me a short burst of strength as I laboriously pick myself up off the ground. I tilt my head back and let the rain wash the mud, tears, and snot from my face. Begrudgingly, I draw my sword and turn toward the horde of demons I’ve faced too many times to count. My grip on the hilt tightens as my resolve to make it through yet another day of this battle seeps slowly into my bones. I have very little hope left of being rescued, of finding comrades willing to fight beside me. I’m not even sure how I would react if that happened.

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And thus… I continue to fight this constant battle of chronic pain and depression. This is a fantasy representation of the battle that goes on every single moment I am awake. The demons are the many different things that consistently bring me down, beat me up, and overwhelm me. Distractions like anime or gaming do help to put this fight off for brief amounts of time. Sleep is a welcome reprieve most of the time.