You Don’t Know Me

As I am jetting off to the South Coast tomorrow to spend the weekend with my family for a big get together on account of my beloved Granddad celebrating his 90th birthday this week, today was my last working day of the week.

It was actually quite good. So I would like to apologise for being a moaning myrtle all week.

My trouble is half my brain is normal, you know like how Homer Simpson’s brain is smarter than him (and is perhaps one of the best supporting characters in The Simpsons).

And the other half wants to f*** s*** up in my life at any given moment.

They are constantly fighting. My ‘normal’ brain wants to be free, trust people, be the life and soul of the party.

You might find this hard to believe but around people I trust and feel comfortable with it’s like my switch has been flipped on and I come alive.

One memorable time was at University when I was round one of my best friend’s student digs, she lived with people who didn’t really know me. As my friend was someone I felt very close to, I was a bit ‘lively’. The next day my friend’s flatmates were saying to her ‘God, Flo was really drunk last night’ and my friend explained that I had been sober, but just that’s what I’m like when I’m relaxed.

So I have two sides, the side my loved ones see, and the side the general public see. And the general public get the s*** end of the deal as they get the anxious, traumatised, nervous, incapable, socially inept hollow shell of a human being. And there is always the risk they will never see the real me.

I want to be the same person all the time.

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