There is no Evil here

I have these thoughts

TRIGGER WARNING: This one handles themes of anxiety, depression, and self-harm. 

I have these thoughts, like tiny little ants crawling around in my head. They go here, they go there, and they itch just under the skin. I try to ignore them at first, a mild irritation that will hopefully pass when I stop thinking about them.

But like flies, they buzz, and they buzz, and they buzz, AND THEY NEVER STOP. I'm scratching, scratching, scratching, but it only makes it worse; it makes me bleed.
I drown out the words with music; work keeps me frustrated, so I don't have time to think - but sometimes it overwhelms me, and the thoughts swarm. I'm stupid; I'm useless.

But I have these thoughts, when the lights are out and the house is so quiet you can hear the wood creak like achy old bones. Thoughts like mosquitoes buzzing near my ears in the dark. They tell me I messed up, remind me of the bad things I did, and invite my traumas to dinner, feeding on the feast of fear I tried to bury, but dug up when I scratched at the itch.

I have these thoughts, that swell inside me like an overfilled water balloon. Stretched so thin, any minute, I'll pop, and all the insecurities and fears inside will spill out. I try to relieve the pressure and let a little out, but you look at me with eyes that say, "Here we go again", and I seal the breach and run away before I can hear you tell me I'm being ridiculous.

I have these thoughts that tell me I'm worthless. I don't belong. I'm nothing. I've failed and disappointed, and I hear you say I only speak to hear my own voice. I shut my mouth; I won't burden you with it again. I'm sorry.

I have these thoughts, like tiny ants swarming under my skin. I scratch and scratch, but there is no relief. I have these thoughts, but I won't trouble you any more. I'm sorry. I'll be quiet.

Please, just don't leave me with these thoughts.