Confessions: Two Personalities

*testing vocal cords* ♫ ♪ THESE ARE MY CONFESSIOOOOONS! ♪ ♫

Yes, I used to act like I was singing Usher and post some very embarrassing, but honest admissions to my Facebook page.  It was silly, but it challenged my social anxiety.

Now, I want to use it as a means to stay human, by expressing what we’re all probably experiencing, but too afraid to admit or accept.

Granted, you may not find an antidote here.  These confessions may not offer anything other than comfort to know that you’re not alone in these sentiments.


 

Around this time last year, I had an intense, almost overpowering desire to take over me.  It was like a fire that wouldn’t go out for a month.  I needed to cuddle.  I needed to hug, to give and receive warmth.  Almost thought I’d die if I didn’t, just burn to ash.

Two weeks ago, I was looking forward to Fall.  There’ll be bundles of blankets, extra rich and extra hot chocolate and soothing teas to warm the body.  There would be autumn colors covering the trees, crunchy leaves to walk through and crisp air to help me appreciate a warm house with cuddly cats.  I’ll even learn to make some soups!

I’ll walk through the fall, embrace the atmosphere and I’ll walk through the winter snow too.  There’ll be icicles descending from trees, homes, and cars! I pictured sunlight glittering across the snow and rainbows forming through the ice.  Maybe I’ll build a snowman or make a snow angel.  I’ll love the outdoors because it’s beautiful and welcoming.

These thoughts are very childlike.  Only my 8-year-old-self remembers how beautiful, breathtaking and fun the changing seasons are.  These emotions and desires, I’ll call them Her, has been knocking on my heart to have adventures, see the world, meet new people and fall in love, not just with one person, but with life, friends, places and foods.  She doesn’t know anger and resentment like…Him.

He is my most dominant personality.  He’s what I’ve known for my adult life.  He’s my anxiety, bitterness, cynicism, and cause of my seclusion.  No one can be trusted.  Look at the news, governments, schools, work-place, and overall, how people treat each other.  What has humanity become? He’ll look at people side-eyed, scrutinize them until he sees their flaws.  He’s not confident, he doubts himself, is fearful and is at no means able to explore the world.  He’s too insecure for that.  In fact, whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably about him and you’re right.  He’s convinced it’s best to enjoy solitude until time is over.  Avoidance is more comfortable.

I have two distinctly different personalities wrecking my heart.  One is of love, the other isn’t.  Out of self-preservation, I’m questioning whether I ever knew myself or if I’ve just accepted the person I’ve become.  Could I really be as loving as Her, but suppressed that personality with resentment and anger over malevolent people?  What is my true self and how do I heal? Can I even join these personalities so my heart can mend?

I repel the thought of being vulnerable, because why should I let anyone hurt me on purpose? It’s my fault if I let my guard down.  Meanwhile, I’m burning up inside from lack of affection and of expressing love.

This conflict feels like a physical weight on my chest and it’s worsening my depression because I know I can’t move on until I’m willing to address years of self-made impediments to live as the person I truly am.  When I reflect on these personalities, I can honestly say I want to love like Her, but it’s easier being Him.  I want to look to my memories in fondness of all the great experiences and people I’ve known.  I want to nurture, provide and take care of the people I love…but I also don’t want the hurt and pain that can come with it.


 

The way in which I use the pronouns “him,” and “her,” have nothing to do with gender and I definitely do not feel they define societal roles.  I just needed a way to differentiate these conflicting characteristics.

Also, I think there’s room to explore how I’m connecting being outdoors to love and possibly happiness.