You and I (Shame Interrupted)

        During the quietest moments, as you are feeling warm and woozy under the covers, I will be there. You'll be waiting for sleep to come, physically and mentally exhausted, and I will sneak up on you.
The fear of me is as big as the fear of the monsters under the bed you worried about as a child. You waited and waited to use the bathroom till with a yelp and a great fling of the covers, you burst forth like an anxious rodeo bull from his cage and sprinted to the bathroom. It was always cold and quiet, a no-man zone. You couldn't stay there forever, but you couldn't go back to bed. Once finished there, you faced the terrible fear of the dark bedroom and imagined the monster claws reaching and grabbing as you made the great leap into bed.  Your heartbeat would be so loud in your ears and you would gasp for breath as you ran as fast as you could. Under the covers you would go, trembling, adrenaline pumping; with a great sigh of relief to be in bed.
        But I, Shame, am a monster who will follow you everywhere. I will remind you of your greatest weaknesses in the safest places you know. I will whisper thoughts as you lie on your pillow, sit in church, or hug your family members.
        It's funny to me that once you let that whisper in, my work is nearly done because you continue to think about it. You invite me to come back to help you rehearse the lies. You spend hours agonizing over past choices and sins and failures. You remember that tiny thing you did that embarrassed you to no end. It is magnified the more you tell yourself the story. You remind yourself that you aren't good enough for anyone and you're still dirty. Adding to that, you don't dress as nicely as some people, and you don't pray as well, have as many friends, or have as much fun.
       You can't tell anyone about this, because they would look down on you for struggling with such petty things, and they're so much more advanced in their walk with God. Remember, you're the only one you can talk to.
      Oh, and you can't tell anyone about what you've done and what's been done to you, because they would be disgusted with you and probably look at you differently.  Just stay at home tomorrow, and don't read your Bible. Don't even try to break out of this, because that would be too hard.

Tonight, you are still. You're waiting for me to come and you are wearing a suit of armor. I can hear your thoughts, and they are terrifying. You are tightly gripping the Sword of Truth.  Worst of all, you are washed. Your old, dirty clothes are lying on the floor.
I flee.