Sometimes through the slanted holes in the dark room I try to get a glimpse of the people that occupy the space. I hear the voices and feel the presence, but it feels as if no one is really there. My mind races trying to figure out how is this possible? How can I hear the voices, feel the presence, but not see the people? Some days it feels like they’re right there, peering over my shoulders waiting for me to make a move or introduce myself to the room. Other times, it’s like we’re all here together and we know each other very well. No need for introductions, ice breakers or anything of the sort, just start talking and get down to the issues at hand. So I begin to lay out my story of what’s going on and one of them stops me before I can get going good, letting me know that how I’m seeing it isn’t actually how it’s going at all. They tell me that I’m missing some details and they begin talking to fill in the missing parts of the story.

That conversation ends and so does that day, week, month, all filled with the same types of situations. Numerous conversations from the different people in the room, expressing the different feelings and thoughts felt regarding the events of the life happening around me. I half expect everyone to say that I’m wrong, but this time that isn’t what happens. Three of them agree with what I said, adding that their feelings are even more bothered by the shit than how I’m feeling. The other two don’t agree, but they don’t disagree either. Instead, they provide additional context, expressing the more alone, unappreciated feelings and description of the situation. Listening to how they feel about things, I find myself torn between what is the reality and what is more of an illusion. It’s like there are moments where I feel like I have control of the situation and agreement from those who know most intimately of the situations, and then out of nowhere, one of them throws a grenade on the whole situation. Showing emotions, I never thought about, but clearly were present or, at least, worthy of consideration.

Somewhere in the middle of all these different conversations, thoughts, feelings, and emotions I realize that there aren’t different people physically in the room, all of these people are within me. I am flipping through the different personalities that exist within me. All of them seemingly unlocked, awake and ready to give their thoughts. They are ready to live and have their turn at the wheel to direct and guide my life. And while that can be difficult for the rest of the world to try and figure out how to interact with me on a daily basis, for me it’s magnified by tenfold. Trying to know which version of me is going to show up today. Whether it will be just or two or three people that I need to manage and satisfy their desires, needs, feelings, and wants. It’s like one day I wake up and the world makes sense, I appreciate myself for what I’ve accomplished and come back from, and then some days I wake up and I wanna say fuck all these people who take me for granted, who abuse my kindness and compassion. And all of those feelings and emotions that exist between those two extremes.

It’s as if these with each betrayal, with each heart break, with each disappointment a piece of me broke and another personality arrived. Coming to protect me, to try and shield me from the dangers of fucked up ass people. To shield me from leeches and trash people while I try to heal from the scars torn into my heart and mind. In the past I would be able to let them out to be the shield of protection and put them back to sleep after I’ve sufficiently healed and regained my composure. Yet, I feel that with the passing of times, the increased frequency and severity of the trauma I suffered, they came out and stopped allowing me to put them back into a dormant state. The result is often mixed and confusing, usually resulting in varied personalities within the day. My wants and desires raging at times, sex, food, weed, sleep, companionship. Most times I’m able to satisfy all of these desires, but when they more complex and robust I can’t and the depression sets in. Like I wonder why I haven’t achieved more when I look at what I’ve done and am capable of. I wonder why I don’t have my three children I so carefully selected the individuals to contribute to that being possible. Then thinking why, I am not married with the one I love. How is it that I package all the things niggas say they want, but they can’t commit to when it’s right there for them.

Now the crazy part of it all is when I’m back to the main personality, I start to figure out that maybe the reason that I haven’t accomplished more is because the more that these personalities have existed, the more I’ve been torn and twisted with different wants and interests because they’re so diametrically different from each other and require a little different attention in order to feel whole. There is the dilemma that I really have no clue how to rectify. Hell, I don’t know if I can do anything about it at this point. The pieces of me that have been taken, have been filled by my personalities and they refuse to be put away, instead they rage like wildfire, and I battle myself over what I want and how to go about achieving those goals. Therein lies the pieces of me.