I was going to write a post about depression, because the last week I’ve woken up enveloped in a black cloud of despair—not the active I think I’ll plan my own death kind of despair, but more the maybe I’ll lie in bed and do nothing and see how long it takes just to wither away kind. And it’s been hard.

But I started the post and something happened inside me. I started a task that is an Ash kind of task, but I didn’t enter a pulled-back Ash kind of state. I stayed in an Anna kind of state and it’s not terribly different, but it is.

I should say these days there are three of me—occasionally four, but mostly three. There are the babies—Hannah and Ruthie (Baby) who have mostly fused into one person. I have taken to calling them the twins because I can’t tell them apart and because they seem to function as a team. Today, because the staff meeting was very long and I was very tired and very hungry and very frustrated, I began to be able to hear both of them. However, that has not really happened very much.

The twins, incidentally, I have been taking care of me. I used to take care of them and now they have decided I need to be taken care of. I am sad and I miss Nata and I am crying all the time, and they think I need to be given tea and cuddled up in warm blankets. Which I do. And although they are part of me and rightfully ought to be invested in my welfare, it is somehow very touching to have parts of myself who see themselves as tiny children trying to nurture me.

They are also a bit bossy, but in a very caring way. This morning, I was instructed to get ready faster or I would be late, and when I run late, I get stressed. They did not want me to be unhappy.

So those are the twins.

And then there is Anna. Anna I cannot tell you much about—I presume she’s my original personally, but I don’t really know. I can’t very easily let her out—it’s not like it is with the other parts—and when she does come out, the difference between us is not always very pronounced. It is there in a different hum; she has different thoughts too, but mostly she is more emotionally connected. Not flooded with emotion, but just less numb. When she does manage to come out, she usually emerges in a state of confusion. Things seem to bounce around in her head and it’s only when she’s out for a while that they start to form any kind of order.

The difference between us mainly seems to be that I am constantly fighting anxiety—whether I am not aware of it, fear is just continually nipping at my heels. And she is not. So I am always a little flattened out, and she is not.

That is Anna.

So I began the post and stayed sort of Anna or became sort of Anna. Whatever it was. And the result is that my head is a mess of confused bits and bobs. Instead of ignoring those bits and bobs, I thought I might dive into them.

But there are many. I had better take them one at a time.

 

 

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