Actually, we should be calling him ‘one bad apple’ – because he isn’t the only one. Nor is he an apple. He’s a teen-to-preteen; somewhere in there. And neither is our ‘little one’ – the face behind the shield. There’s ‘Mikie’, the boy he wants to be (and have the world accept him); and then there’s ‘Michael’, the true little boy who lived so long ago in a different kind of world than you and I.
He was brave, that little one, and adventurous, too! “A gregarious child,” my mom has described him – and yet that suddenly changed; within one year – maybe less, but no more.
He changed ‘personalities’ the way you and I change clothes. He cast one off – looked around to see what he needed – and tried on a new set of clothes – another ‘personality’ to choose from.
Meanwhile another one had begun. “13” – the now or ‘currently’ infamous personality (Matthew has taken a back seat for awhile). And we’ve learned some things.
One of them is that “13” is zealous about his ‘number’ – won’t let us call him by his ‘true name’. That, he says, is because he’s a ‘transition personality’ – and has no name.
But that, folks, just ain’t true. He just feels he matters none; doesn’t deserve a ‘name’ – or recognition; nor face value, not even survival . . .
He’s the one who has been trying to kill us for such a long time. Not theonly one, mind you, but with serious intent on his mind.
We can remember that one, too – that very first moment ‘he’ cried. It was in our room overseas? We’re not real sure. It might have been right after we came back home from overseas and found ourselves living in our molester’s house (though that family had gone). But I think it was when I was 12; not “13” – when ‘he’ realized the utter useless and futility of everything and anything – the whole of mankind.
The human condition, in other words, with a few thousand sci-fi novel endings thrown in.
They all end the same way.
Mankind is gone. No one to remember ‘him’. No one to remember ‘us’. No one to remember a gosh-durned thing.
The planet would be an empty graveyard by then – a prediction bore out by our scientists, who have shown we’ve got one or two billion years, give or take some, before this planet becomes naturally uninhabitable by the descendents of LIFE as we know it due to expansion of the sun, weather changes and whatnot.
But here’s the thing: that’s all in the past. We’ve ‘woken’ “13” up some to the fact he is in a new life: “ours”. This has been a new difficulty, because some of his issues aren’t gone.
And as thus, he is infecting us with his ‘bad attitude’. The ‘bad apple in a barrel’ sort of thing.
And here’s what we’ve discovered: It takes only ONE. Just ONE of my alternate personalities to ‘feel bad’, ‘feel alone’, left out, depressed, sad – whatever: it affects the system and it affects the whole.
Now normally this is a small problem. We just ‘seal’ them off until ‘they’ are done – mourning or whatever. This is not a ‘good’ way to do things, but it’s how we do it. (We’re supposed to go in and ‘suss out’ his emotions; FEEL them for our own; but when you’ve got a suicidal personality on your hands: BOYS, you’d better be careful! Especially with ‘this one’. Because yeah; we gotta gun (got many of them, actually) – though we would never shoot ourselves through the head (seen what it can do – up close and personal. It’s like sticking a pipe bomb in your head: it explodes. Everywhere. And brains . . . yeah; true Zombie time – just laying around. Been there done that; had to clean up and search through ‘the thing’ (my brother-in-law’s brains). Wasn’t much left of him after that – and yes, there was a closed casket funeral. Had to be. There wasn’t nuthin’ left from neck up but this big ol’ octopus looking thing . . . with one eyeball staring out from a ‘stalk’ that hung by his chest . . . (shudders; gross . . . our little kids inside are ugh-ugh nearly crying and vomiting). And yeah: we had to clean up and look for drugs; make sure he was ‘clean’.
Ah well: you see there? That’s where these thoughts have turned. Because just like in a family or a small business – when you take them on vacation they are all there – but if one gets in a sour or bad mood, it affects the whole thing. ALL of us get infected; albeit slowly because we are able to ‘turn it off’ to a certain extant . . .
That’s what I told my wife; or asked her rather:
“When you are happy – you’re ‘all’ happy. And when you are sad – you’re sad. But for me it goes like this: I can be happy – but sad. Sad – but with a little bit of happiness inside. And this goes on ALL THE TIME.”
I can wanna kill myself then don’t. But as long as I can retain my ‘control’ – maintain a majority there – ‘we’ won’t give in. Can’t give in. Because the most of ‘us’ wanna live (yet we don’t know why. If anything, it is ONLY curiousity about what the next day will bring – and we’re losing that slowly. It’s like an infection; creeps up slowly – or can slam you upside the head when you are least expecting it.
One bad apple in my mind. Only it’s not a ‘bad apple’ – its some hurt kid; this one who hides behind a number, who feels so damned depressed that at only 13 he was wanting to take his life . . . but couldn’t quite muster up the ‘courage’ (little Mikie – and some others in my mind – were holding him ‘behind’ – and once little Matthew got hold of him, that was the end of suicidal idealation, thoughts, and desires. That was the end of ‘everything’ emotional in my mind, minus anger and rage (And some like – and occasionally we fell into the pit that was called love – and got hurt EVERY time . . . sighing – which is what made Matthew ‘lose his mind’ – and his nerve – or something).
But hey: we don’t ‘fear’ this because while “13’s” motivations are quite strong, we are able to ‘control’ him – riding roughshod over him if need be; putting him in the ‘time out’ classroom; talking with him – trying to remove this infection in my mind – only it’s not an infection, it’s a “hurt person” – a hurt kid – and so we MUST be kind – while sealing our ears to him; trying to bottle the depression a bit (it’s been affecting – and infecting – our little one) . . . and (LOL, because this is a funny one in a bit): just like Matthew was pissed off at him (“13”) for creating HIM, “13” is a bit tired and sore at Michael (the inner one) for ‘giving up’ and ‘letting loose’ and letting him (“13”) run our mind. Not that “13” didn’t give up, too – he was supposed to (Being a ‘transition personality’).
So here’s the long and short of a rather complicated situation:
We have an alter who is depressed. Suicidally so. He can do nothing to us except ‘infect’ us with his depression a bit (it’s like having this sad bubble inside). And this is NOT an ‘idealization’ suicidal thoughts thing; this is the ‘real thing’ kinda thing. He would blow off our head (or take some poison; or do something equally stupid – and impulsive, which is where he could ‘take control’ – by impulsively coming up and ‘oops! I took too many Percocets!’ – and then “we’d” be paralyzed to do anything – which is why we have to be careful. It’s like playing with dynamite that might just be a dud – or not. But we’re pretty confident of ‘this thing’ (repairing him) – because of what we’ve done and gone through in the past (much much worse depressions with much, much, much MUCH less help and knowledge of our condition). So we’ll be good. (Or good enough I suppose.)
However, ‘this’ is what working with alterscan get you: a surprise depression; a feeling of malaise, an apathy towards life, your own life – living at all (which is a good thing; better an apathy than a hatred, which we have had before: Matthew’s problem at one time – and sometimes even still).
We’ll do better, of that I’m sure. But meantime . . . well, if we’ve withdrawn a bit, I’m sure you’ll understand, eh?
If not . . . (cocked and crooked smile) . . . we’re gonna do it anyway – healing on, moving on, and carrying our little ‘family’ inside towards some better days.
~ An addendum to this thing, posted a little while later:
We went and sat out on the front porch, rocking on our glider – smoking our smoke and looking at our pretty yard (for it is the prettiest one in the neighborhood, with bright twinkling lights and a glowing well with flowers) – and thinking and talking to my alters. (After all, suicide and depression are serious issues with me – I don’t want them. You can’t be happy if you are depressed and suicidal and all that ‘stuff’, ya know!)
So we came up with this one (just to reassure you, if not me, myself, and all the “I’s” inside 🙂
It Runs Both Ways.
I’ve got to let “THEM” take care “ME” sometimes – let ‘them’ hold ME, let ‘them’ care for “ME” –
for in all this while of ‘taking care of them’ – I’ve forgot about the “ME” inside; the current ‘hosting’ system; the . . . lost self? The strange self, for I have no ‘control’ to speak of ‘over’ the system; I just ‘tell them’ – sort of – interpreting the rules, maintaining ‘control’ for the majority.
I am “M3” (the adult being) in other words (LOL’ing here, because I am such a ‘powerless’ – and yet ‘powerful’, for I make many of the decisions) – being in here – trapped alongside in a madhouse sometimes . . .
and just like we were in the insane asylum – I’ve got to let ‘them’ (the ‘patients’ in here) take care of ‘me’. After all; they did (and do) such a good job. (and they really did ‘in there’, meaning the insane asylum). Not the doctors and nurses so much – but the patients; we all banded together . . .
So I’m gonna let ‘them’ – and gotta remember TO let ‘them’ – ‘carry’ me for awhile, when need be, when I get tired and raggled with all that is going on (for Life continues after all; there’s things to ‘get done’ … tho’ I haven’t done anything in a little while.)
So . . . cheering up, throwing on a friendly face; realizing that I’ve got more resources inside than I thought I had (meaning all of my ‘friends’; and my little ones sometimes – who I try SO hard to ‘protect’ from these things) . . .
It’s a hard life, but somebody’s got to hoe it.
Until later on.