Magic was never a real part of my day until recently.
It seemed to have appeared out of no where. And it was always directed at taking my life.
First peeling away at my confidence and deflating what I thought about myself. I would struggle through a bout of imposter syndrome until I was crippled to the point of not recognizing myself.
The first of the attacks also included loved ones perception of myself. My wife, sister, and mother would come to see me as schizophrenic and uncappable of being competent in the most basic aspects of life. The challenges I faced on a daily basis left to me by the hauntings of this malice left me medicated, hearing whispers, and feeling the brittle penitration of invisible spears and hooks.
Now they aim for my body. Drain me of muscle fiber to the point of ALS-like symptoms, and drain my mind of serotonin until it can no longer manage mood.