…just keep saying it;

I wonder who you fell in love with. Was it the kind hearted sweet girl who gave you a simple smile every time you walked by. The girl who still blushes at the thought of our first kiss? Or was it the girl who lost her shit the first time she found out you smoked weed? oh wait, I know! It was the girl who pressured you into asking her out cause she was terrified of the idea of you leaving. I will never actually know which girl you fell in love with but what I do know is you have learned to love both of us. 

See, there’s two people running this body. The first me is the me that everyone else sees. The joyful girl who is smart, ambitious with unimaginable yet achievable goals. The second me is the one you mostly see. The girl who thinks that the only way to not feel the pain of her fluctuating emotions is to watch the blood drip from her skin. The worst part of this all is I hate every me. Every me is symptomatic just not quiet visible all the time. I want you to understand that my borderline symptoms do not defy me but they do direct my way of thinking. 

I love you, I have loved you, and I always will love you. Unfortunately my symptoms don’t love you. My symptoms hate to hear your voice. They know you can help so they just push you away. They want us to break up and they never fail to tell you that. I want to apologize on behalf of my symptoms. I may not know who I am but what I do know is the love we share has been a lifeline. My symptoms make me say some horrible things to you. Things that if you said to me would send me down an endless spiral. I am sorry. I may not remember the things my symptoms made me say but I do know they hurt you. 

Please understand I don’t mean those. It’s just some fucked up coping mechanism that I involuntarily and unconsciously do. Your patience is unimaginable. Coming from someone with a short temper I can confidently say I have no idea how you deal with me every day but I am thankful that you do. You have been given numerous opportunities to walk away from me but you haven’t. I ask you why all of the time and your answer seems to change every time. Some days its cause you love me and other days its cause you know its not me. Whatever you have to say to keep loving me just keep saying it. Please don’t give up on me, I need you. 

An Introduction to a multi-brained life

A blog not for your benefit, but mine. 

That feeling of driving and slamming on the brakes seconds before disaster is the thrill that I live with everyday. “Thrill”- a sudden feeling of excitement and adventure, according to a quick google search. Excitement….adventure…. Those aren’t words that most people would describe their near death experiences. But I know this and whoever reads this will quickly learn this, I am not most people. I live every single day with, as my friend Dexter from Netflix would like to say, a dark passenger. Now my dark passenger is NOT like Dexter so don’t go reporting my blog. My dark passenger lives within me. Her name is Anxiety with a few undiagnosed but hopefully soon to be diagnosed mental illnesses. 

This isn't a diary. I know better than to spill all my deep dark secrets onto the internet. This is more of a hey here’s what’s going with me, anyone else feel this way? Or am I actually as alone as I feel? Type of thing. 

So, multi-brained. Why did I choose this? Well this is exactly how I feel. Muti-brained is a synonym for Dark passenger or whatever mental illness I'm talking about. They’re interchangeable. The common theme between all of these are that they involve someone else. All of these words  are associated with some type of dissociation. A feeling that someone else is driving my ship. That I am being controlled by a separate being inside my body. 

So again, put yourself in that car. Slam on those brakes. And feel that stomach drop. feel the fear, the thrill. Now hold onto the feeling and walk into a coffee shop. Keep that feeling as you wait in line, as you watch people around you, as you order, as you pay, as you wait. Feeling that near death experience when you’re watching Coco with your friends, or when you’re out a nice dinner. Feeling like you’re seconds from dying and pumping that brake but never slowing down. An endless downward spiral. I wake up with that feeling. I eat all my meals with that feeling and I sleep with that feeling. 

Do you ever feel like you have a dark passenger but yet you’re the passenger and the dark is what’s driving?