>Before reading this post, I need to give you a context. This is a cathartic exercise I use in my journalling. I quite like writing letters to various parts of my identity and getting a pissy with them. It’s a bit random, but it written from the top of my head. You should see the unedited version…hahaha Any way, read on<
Hello old friend. We haven’t spoken in a while and I wanted you to know, I’m still here. Whoever, ‘I’ am. We’ve been together along time. 33 years. My longest relationship. When close my eyes and just think of you, I see me as a cartoon. All squiggly lines, something but nothing defined. Nothing concrete. Just abstract. You are me and I am you. You’re not much without me. And I am pretty sure I could be content without you. Although, without you, I wouldn’t be me. Together we twist and turn in this paradox. A power struggle. Self against Self. You madam, are my contradiction.
You have in many ways given me so much. Some degree of intelligence, a certain competence with higher-order thinking. I am however disappointed that you didn’t give me something practical, like managing money, or spelling. I’m sorry, I’ve gone off topic and into critical mode. You gave me an uncanny insight into people. You also gave me focus. I can focus on one thing for months and I know that is you. This intuition is a bit freaky sometimes. When I was younger, I thought you were god. LOL What a relief that you’re just a mental illness, last thing I need is hearing voices. Then there’s the endless curiosity about everything. To understand the human condition and it’s complex twists, turns and ironies. Do never find an answer to my never ending “but why?”. Why would a person do that? What was going on for them? Even brutal crimes. To understand what goes wrong with the mind, we must look at even the darkest of cases. Knowledge is power. Just one thing you missed. The bloody off switch. What? Do I need this day AND night? Do you not sleep?
Anyhoo…You and I have to reach an agreement, somewhere in the middle, a give and take. You’ve taken a fair bit from me already. Years of my life and all I got in return is some bad memories and weird aversions to certain foods and places. So I think you owe me. I know why you need the rituals. Your rituals are mine. You and I. We are me. So we can’t we just get along?