Fighting the Dark Void Inside Me

There’s a darkness inside me I can’t seem to shake. It’s not always loud. Sometimes, it’s quiet—almost invisible to the outside world. But I feel it. Every day. It’s like a void, pulling at me from within, a constant weight I carry around no matter where I go or what I do.

It eats me alive, slowly. And no matter how hard I try, nothing ever really changes. Sure, there are good days—days where I laugh a little louder, eat something I enjoy, maybe even feel a sliver of peace. I try to return to the things I used to love: my hobbies, my creative outlets, long walks, movies I once found comfort in. I surround myself with people, hoping their energy might fill the silence inside me. And sometimes, it works. Temporarily.

But the void… it never truly leaves.

At night, when the world quiets down, that’s when it returns the strongest. It wraps itself around me, whispering all the things I try so hard to forget. It reminds me of the emptiness I feel, of the unanswered questions, the things I haven’t healed from, and the fears I try to keep buried. It’s like the darkness waits for me to be alone, just to remind me it’s still there—lurking, patient, familiar.

I think a lot of people experience this too, even if they don’t talk about it. That silent battle we fight within ourselves. The kind you can’t explain to others without sounding broken or dramatic. But it’s real. And it’s exhausting.

The truth is—I don’t have the answers. I still don’t know how to treat this or how to push it away for good. I don’t know what healing fully looks like. I don’t know when this will get better. But I do know this: I’m trying.

I’m doing everything I can to be okay. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday.

And if you’re feeling this too, please know that you’re not alone. I may not have a solution, but I understand. And sometimes, that’s the first step—knowing someone else gets it. That the darkness you feel doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.

So for now, I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep waking up. I’ll keep doing the little things that might not fix everything, but might help me survive another day. Because maybe, just maybe, someday the void will shrink. Maybe someday, light will take up more space than darkness.

And until then… I’m holding on.