I am my worst enemy

Sometimes they say 'you are your worst enemy'......
The hardest battles to fight are those with yourself - some people think this when they are trying to make a tough decision, when they have to choose right from wrong, when their heart says one thing but their head says another.
What about when the enemy is a part of you? Something inside of you that is a shadow of yourself, your greatest enemy. A part of you that you have to fight every day. A part of you that cannot simply be pushed away.
One of the best ways I have been able to express my illness is through illustrations, which I initially drew in a Spanish GCSE lesson, I had just received detention because once again I hadn't had the strength to complete my homework and I sat in the back of class, was meant to be writing an essay but instead started drawing a monster.
The monster didn't look like a monster. It had none of your usual monster characteristics. Far from it. I just drew stick people (part of this being because I am not a good enough artist to have made it more creative, but actually, the simple stick man represents it quite well). Next to the 'monster' I drew myself (again, it was no self portrait, I'm no artist). And both the monster and myself were identical stick men. Except in size.
When I was at my worst, the monster would tower over me, so tall and mighty as I stood so small and frail. When I was having okay days, we would be around equal in size. And when I was having a good day, I would be tall and mighty and the monster small and frail.
The illustration showed how when I was at my worst there was a part of me that was so much greater than me, it dominated me, made me feel so worthless, small, insignificant, useless and would destroy me. This monster would dominate all my thoughts and feelings, would be there all the time and impossible to escape from. It felt like the battle was already lost, because I simply was not strong enough to fight it.
When I was feeling okay, neither of us would dominate. I'd be able to stand just about strong enough to not feel dominated, but the battle was not won, the monster was still very much there and was my equal.
When I was having good days, I would dominate me. I would be able to fight the monster. I could stamp him out, push him away, ignore him because he was so small and insignificant and meant very little.
With these images I tried to make a timeline. Documenting the times I was dominant and the times he was dominant (I know it is very stereotypical to call a monster a he but in my head he was definitely a he) became the best way I had ever been able to communicate properly what was happening in my head. And that's exactly the point. Take the drawings off the page and place them in my head. In my head there are these two people, the monster and me.
The monster controlled my mood, my thoughts, my feelings, my words and my actions. And a lot of the time I had no control over him, meaning I was therefore not in control of my mood, thoughts, feelings, words and actions. Yet noone understood that. 'Why are you being so moody??' And wouldn't for one minute believe I couldn't control it. And so I was battling with others because of him. So I was fighting more than just myself. So I guess when I was getting therapy I was finding ways to fight him. 
There were days when I felt the monster would never leave. Days when I kept losing the battle again and again. Days when I couldn't fight anymore. And days when I started to believe the monster would be my constant dominant companion.
What I didn't know back then is that the monster will always be a part of me. But that I could fight it. And although he will always be with me, I will be the dominant one. With control over my own thoughts, feelings, mood, actions and words. The moster still fights with me, sometimes he wins. But now, more often than not, it's me who wins.