There have been times when I have felt like I’ve emerged from a fog and lost the desire to submit. When this happens, I reflect on my dark thoughts and the activities they have led me to, and I am horrified, disgusted, at how crazy I have been. I then try to arrange my life in such a way as to protect myself from myself, to put up barriers that will keep me out of the darkness. But, I always slip back in eventually, no matter how hard I try to resist. More recently, I have started to think in terms of protecting my shadow self instead. This seems to be who I really am. As painful as it is to admit, the real me is an ugly, evil person.

It is so exhausting trying to juggle, accommodate, my two selves. They refuse to co-exist. I am afraid that the struggle between my two selves will erode my sanity. Maybe it already is. They keep me awake at night fighting for control of my mind. I don’t think I can go on like this forever. One will emerge, and the dark part of me seems to be getting more powerful over time. And it was there first. It must be who I really am. I had to create my public persona to survive, but its just a mask, its not me.

I think this is why I am so puzzled by people’s behavior, and why I seem to think about things so differently than everyone else. I feel like there are two, incompatible realities, my own and everyone else’s. Their world is hostile and confusing, and seems very unreal to me. Often as I walk around and watch others, I feel like I’m a character in a movie that is stopping to watch the movie. My public persona exists to blend in with that other unreality, to hide me from the people who live there. The real me, the shadow I cast in that world, is the part I am protecting behind the persona.

I long for a day when the struggle will be over. I won’t have to live a double-life. My public persona will no longer be needed, and I can exist as a raw piece of meat with no cares in the world, no plans that have to be made, no opinions that have to be formed, nothing more to worry about. My mind will finally be broken, and I will exist in the fleeting moment, my existence as ephemeral as mist, as light as a whisper, valueless. All that will matter are Mommy’s desires.

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