The Inhabitants in My Head by Dami Mustapha (17, Texas)

[Content warning: anxiety, depression, self-harm]

I’m finally purposeless.

The inhabitants in my head decided to extend their trip and move in. 

Fear came first, as quiet as a mouse. He treated me as if I would break, and when I did, he was there, ready to cradle me.  

He took me by the hand and led me to his brother, Anger. Anger’s a little different; he didn’t ask to be invited. He took my silence as an invitation. I should have known he would not leave once I saw his bags. 

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I was too weak to tell him no, so I gave him the keys to the home.

​He brought a few friends over, Anxiety and Depression; said they needed a place to stay. 

Anxiety was the worst; she left her reminiscence in everything that I did. She made sure to leave her mark in every breath I took. Refused to leave and called my home hers. 

Depression tried to help; she kept me in bed and clung to my hope. She asked me what the point was; I would never be something so why fight them. It’s better to sleep; maybe then you won't wake up.  She gave me the razor and said, experiment, carve her name into my skin, so I won't forget her, as if I ever could. There was no me without her.  

When I finally had enough, I told them to leave; they laughed and said that the party had only begun, Sadness and Isolation were bringing the drinks. 

You ask why I have no purpose: it's because the residents in my head found a home and decided to stay. They took the broken welcome mat and my silence as their invitation.