I feel as if there's been tiny changes in me over the last years, so small that I didn't even realize I changed until I look back.
For one, I don't know if half the time the things I'm feeling or say are genuine or not. There is a part that I show to others. She is an optimistic, or at least confident part of me. It's easy to draw out. It is me. In it, I'm happy. I live in the moment. I react vividly to things, even if I don't care about it. I listen to people. I can, overall, get along with everyone. I can adapt. Play the part. So simple.
But there's a part of me that's the opposite. This part doesn't come out. He stays in. It's normal, isn't it? Everyone has negative thoughts. He is harsh to the world. People are mere livestock, in his- in my- eyes. They are sheep that follow around blindly until they are torn apart by predators, made into a meal, or just die after they are used. I am not livestock.
A part that plunges me down. I am worse.
They are all some of different parts. They are never one. I don't know when I started thinking like this. I don't know when they branched out. I don't know when I split different parts of me into different embodiments. I know it's not D.I.D. or anything. I never experienced any trauma. I don't have a system or switches or anything.
There is no reason for me to complain, or pity, or focus on my life. I'm alive. That's enough.
That's how I try to cope. That's how I keep it down. The thoughts come one after another in one continuous pour. And then, I'm done. I'm good. Back to the me that everyone knows.
Humor them. Even if I hate them, even if they tick me off, even if I'd rather dumb their body somewhere far from where I am and erase all memory of them, I just humor them. She wants someone exciting. He wants someone serious to listen to him. She wants someone to lead her. He wants a calm presence. Okay. Sometimes I get something out of it. Most times, I don't care.
I get ticked off by tiny things. Just their presence. Just their voice. Just them sitting or standing or existing.
I feel nothing from other things. Deal with it.
I know I'm someone different than I used to be. That's something I can't change. I just cope by putting up the front. Never let my inner voices come out. Never let it leave my lips. Tuck it all away in the box.
It's weird because I never would've thought I'd think so in depth about this and discover so much about myself. That some things I thought aren't really that.