The Torment of an Urge You Can’t Shake

It starts as a whisper.

Quiet.
Not loud. Not sudden. Just there.
Like a weight you didn’t notice until it started pressing down.

You brush it off at first.
Tell yourself you’re fine.
You scroll, you eat, you sleep, you work—whatever keeps your mind busy.
But it waits.
It always waits.

And then it starts poking.
A thought here. A feeling there.
Before you know it, you’re thinking about it more than you want to admit.

Sometimes you even talk to yourself about it.
Convince yourself it’s nothing.
“It’s not that serious.”
“Just this once.”
“I can handle it.”
You’ve said it all before.

But the tension builds.
And small things make it worse.
A comment. A memory. Being tired. Feeling alone.
And boom—you’re right back where you swore you wouldn’t be.

So you give in.
And for a moment, it’s quiet.
Like silence after a storm.
But it never lasts.

Because after the relief comes the pit in your stomach.
The shame.
The voice in your head that says, “You messed up again.”

It’s not even about the thing anymore.
It’s about feeling like you’ve lost to something you wish you had power over.

But maybe—
Maybe the fact that you keep fighting means you haven’t given up.
Maybe the urge getting louder means you’re getting closer to freedom.
Because it wouldn’t fight you this hard if you weren’t a threat.

So next time, maybe you don’t panic.
Maybe you don’t give in right away.
Maybe you breathe.
Maybe you cry.
Maybe you ride it out, no matter how long it takes.

And if you don’t win that day?
Try again tomorrow.
You’re not weak. You’re not alone. You’re not a failure.
You’re just human.