The Purge

Whatever happened in San Antonio seriously fucked you up. You never remembered everything after that, nor were you ever the same. I’m aware of your split consciousness so I will put up with a whole lot of shit from you, but you’re really pushing the limit here. I just knew it was the way you were, I didn’t understand WHY until I started dealing with my own issues and studying the effects of trauma etc. Once I put all the pieces together it was obvious. If I, someone who hasn’t had any professional training in the field of psychology, can determine what’s up do you really think you can hide it from the public at large? No. You’re not a horrible person, you’re just sick. If you’d stop being so proud and take your own damn advice the mental distress you’ve found yourself in would go away.

But you can’t. You can’t for the very same reason that you so desperately need to. You can’t look at yourself, but you can look at me. I’m your mirror. You see your young self in me, which is why you’ve gotten yourself wrapped up in “fixing” me, and “teaching me lessons”. It’s why we were together in the first place. We actually do have 75% of the same mental issues, except I’m an Empath where you’re a Narcissist. Hence, why I’m always trying to help you, and you’re always trying to fight me. The really difficult thing for me to see is that it’s only a part of you that’s a dick face asshole. It wasn’t always the dominant part of your consciousness, but it is now. You described the event when you split to me in perfect detail, do you remember?

It was after Thanksgiving dinner 2005. On the way back to pick up my car you explained to me how you “didn’t have” a personality, and how you “killed” the one you had because you didn’t want to be that person anymore. I was sitting there talking to an alternate personality and never even realized it. The you that came out in your sleep? Depending on which one was dominate during the day, dictated which one came out at night. When you were sweet, kind and loving toward me during the day all hell would break lose at night. And when you were off with your other women, treating me like shit during the day, the sweet loving, genuine guy would come out at night. The sweet, loving, genuine guy is the one who ended up bawling in the living room begging me not to leave. The sweet, loving, genuine guy is who was around for all of the events you don’t remember or think I’m making up. All the good times we had together, that was him. He’s the one who proposed to me, he’s the one who grieved with me over my miscarriage, he’s the one who wanted to come back to me and start a life together, but he never really came back from San Antonio. There were glimpses of him in our short time together after that, but he was never a dominant presence like he had been before.

So yes. Yes I would rather endure your abuse than listen to you talk about how we were happy together once upon a time, because dick face abusive you truly never loved me and as long as he’s in control I don’t feel obligated to stick around. When sweet you surfaces, it hurts. It hurts me to see him again, and to know if something happens and he ever regains complete control I won’t be there for him because dick face you has chased me away, or locked me up in a mental institution, or finally thrown me in front of a bus. Dick face you is all about protection. That’s what spawned the split in the first place. Which is where the narcissism comes from, and the aptitude toward violence. It’s also why you view me as a threat, even though I haven’t actually done anything to threaten aside from exist and write about my life. Writing about my life stirs up sweet you, which does actually cause you a fair amount of mental distress. So you’re not entirely wrong, but taking me to court won’t solve the problem.

The only way for you to solve the problem is to take yourself to therapy and get your messy mind sorted out by some one specializing in personality disorders with narcissism. You won’t go easily, nor quietly since dick face is dominant at the moment, but it needs to happen. Court appointed therapy is never effective anyway, it has to be a choice. I can only hope that dick face subsides long enough for sweet you to make that choice. He knows he needs to. He wants to, but dick face won’t let him.