I used to more patient, tried to keep the peace, had more love and compassion. Then a lot of things happen and it felt like I was split between two personalities; patience, forgiveness, compassion and anger, vengeance, confidence.
I called the other side Jeanette. Neither side liked the idea of giving her a name and splitting into two. Alters became a mess and it felt strange slipping between the two. When Jeanette woke up to take over, it felt like warm light filling my mind and body. I could speak my mind, make people hear me instead of staying silent. Deep inside, a small light would keep us stable, urging my other self to be cautious and don't do anything we would regret later. Jeanette wouldn't be afraid and would take more risks, but that voice was there to help. But now it's like we're being smothered, the light turns to fire and burns and I can't hear that calming influence inside me.
Now I'm not sure who I am. Am I me or am I, Jeanette? Did I wither away...or maybe it's more accurate to ask if she withered away? When the fire burns away and Jeanette is a small, burning light inside, I wonder if what we did was wrong. Wondered if it would be better if Jeanette stayed buried down, or maybe never existed at all.
Neither of us is sure. The only sure thing we know is that we are becoming a monster, a demon, a grade A bitch. It's awful but at the same time, it feels so good to be the ones in control, to be heard, to have a sliver of power. The pleasure and fear is a horrible combination.
Maybe it's better if we stopped existing. Too many friends and family members urge us to live but what will happen when they realize the demon we have become? Maybe then we will be granted permission.
I called the other side Jeanette. Neither side liked the idea of giving her a name and splitting into two. Alters became a mess and it felt strange slipping between the two. When Jeanette woke up to take over, it felt like warm light filling my mind and body. I could speak my mind, make people hear me instead of staying silent. Deep inside, a small light would keep us stable, urging my other self to be cautious and don't do anything we would regret later. Jeanette wouldn't be afraid and would take more risks, but that voice was there to help. But now it's like we're being smothered, the light turns to fire and burns and I can't hear that calming influence inside me.
Now I'm not sure who I am. Am I me or am I, Jeanette? Did I wither away...or maybe it's more accurate to ask if she withered away? When the fire burns away and Jeanette is a small, burning light inside, I wonder if what we did was wrong. Wondered if it would be better if Jeanette stayed buried down, or maybe never existed at all.
Neither of us is sure. The only sure thing we know is that we are becoming a monster, a demon, a grade A bitch. It's awful but at the same time, it feels so good to be the ones in control, to be heard, to have a sliver of power. The pleasure and fear is a horrible combination.
Maybe it's better if we stopped existing. Too many friends and family members urge us to live but what will happen when they realize the demon we have become? Maybe then we will be granted permission.
