The following is the first entry I submitted to an Online Journal Site...it's helped clarify how I feel, and where I'm at. I speak metaphorically - I don't actually have a split personality.
Has/does anyone else feel this way? How are you now? I need some encouragement.
Man, where have I gone? I feel like the real me has been
replaced...and I really don't like her substitute. The real
me cared (deeply) about what she looked like. She would
shower, do her hair, put on a full, flawless, face of
makeup. The real me wore put-together clothes, the real me
exercised and ate right...the real me had fun. She walked
into rooms and made heads turn - she was intelligent and
funny. The real me was one hell of a knockout. She lived
life to the fullest - she knew how to smile. The real me
really cared about people, not just because it's something
charming people say, but because the real me had a big
heart. The real me is someone you would want to be around.
The real me is someone you would want to know.
The real me is trapped inside this crapty replacement now.
This substitute showed up and ever so gradually locked the
real me away. First she gave the real me too many
drinks...and not the social kind, (which the real me liked)
the ones where you drink them all by yourself and think
about why you're not good enough. She slowly took away the
real me's pride. The substitute started sleeping in and
laying around in her pajamas all day...too hung over to
care. The funny, intelligent things she used to say were
becoming mumbled and embarrassing. The sub was taking away
the real me's charisma and beauty.
The sub started fighting with the real me's friends and
family members too. She stopped calling them - convinced
the real me to let them go. The sub never wanted to go
anywhere, she thought staying at home was more fun. The
substitute shut out and isolated everyone the real me loved.
The substitute wasn't finished though...she was mad that
the real me still looked beautiful on the outside. Even if
she was starting to die inside, the decay had yet to take
place on the outside. Sure, the real me looked more down
and out than usual - but the sub wasn't content with
just "down and out."
The sub starting eating too much, she wanted to consume the
real me. She didn't want anyone to remember the real me's
beauty. The sub told the real me that it is food, not
people that is most comforting in this world. The sub told
the real me that it was ok to let go every once in awhile.
She told the real me this every day, she told the real me
this so much - that the real me couldn't even recognize
herself when it was all said and done with. The substitute
had won. The substitute devoured the real me.
I don't recognize myself anymore, nor do I want to. I say
that the real me is trapped, because if I say that she died
it means that she can never come back. I miss her - and I
hope this diary can beat the substitute and remind the real
me to come back. I need her back.
My daughter is 7 weeks old. I need the real me back so I
can teach my baby girl how to be beautiful...how to be
funny...how to care about others...how to care about
herself. I need my daughter to love life. I don't want her
to look back on her childhood and remember a mother who
stayed inside all day long, because she regretted who she
was on the outside.
The substitute is writing in my diary right now - but when
I decide to stop writing, I want it to be the real me.
My daughter is 7 weeks old. I still have time to get me