Unhelpful Conversations with Myself

Unhelpful Conversations with Myself

I have a number of selves. It doesn’t particularly bother me but my psych says something about mixed personality disorder. As long as he is pleased with himself—I guess it’s his job to call me names.

He calls me the wrong names though. I’d expect more of an educated person. He insists on addressing me with my academic title, except, as most people, he gets it as mixed up as my personality disorder. Once for all, an MA title is lesser then a PhD title and the correct address is a fucking doctor, not master (the prefacing four-letter word is optional).

I would never admit it to my psychiatrist (lest he should come up with an extra diagnosis for it), but two of my selves  regularly engage in passive-aggressive arguments. My emotional self oftentimes seeks help from my rational self, and my rational self is being a jerk (so is my emotional self). Examples below an irrelevant picture.

This thistle is irrelevant. Just like me.

Emotional self: I’m freezing.
Rational self: Wrap up.
Emotional self: But I’m freezing!
Rational self: What exactly do you want from me?
Emotional self: Help. And a kitten.
Rational self: Stop wasting my time!
Emotional self: I hate you!

Emotional self: I’m feeling exhausted.
Rational self: You’re not. It’s psychosomatic.
Emotional self: Don’t dare tell me how I’m feeling! My therapist says all feelings are valid.
Rational self: I’m just saying your valid feelings are psychosomatic.
Emotional self: Shut up.

Emotional self: I can’t focus.
Rational self: So focus.
Emotional self: But I don’t want to.
Rational self: Irrelevant.
Emotional self: I want to die.

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