Dear Mind

 

Dear Mind,

It’s hard to write a letter to you knowing that you are that one thing putting these letters to the words, the words to the sentences, the sentences to this whole letter. But I wanted to confront you in a way I have never before. Certainly I have written diary entries, short stories, even blog entries on this exact website but I have never tried to understand you. I just let you do your work. But, today, I want to step back a little.

I want to understand you. Badly. I’ve come to a point in my life where I’ve become desperate. Therapy session after therapy session, a week in a psychiatric ward, a phase of self-mutilation, a phase of alcohol abuse, and I still don’t understand why. “Why what?” is probably the first question you have for me. Well, why am I the way that I am? Why when I desperately do not want to do something, I think of injuring myself to get out of it? Of course it’s a fleeting thought – well, if I go into an accident I wouldn’t have to go to work – but it still scares me. It still makes me want to define myself as a little insane and it’s all your fault. You’re the reason for my insanity. You’re the reason for all of my insecurities. You’re the reason I put a razor to my wrist and slid it across with a deranged smile on my face. You’re the reason I need therapy. Why would you want me to go through that? Why would you be so vindictive?

I want to be able to control you, but it’s impossible. You’re like a fucking toddler having a tantrum. You get what you want, even if I try my hardest to stop you, to calm you down, to shut you up.

You play these games with me. You make me happy one second, then the next is a memory you put in the front of you and it deletes all of that positive energy. You take yourself away for some hours when I’m with someone I love, someone I enjoy being with, and then you get me alone again and it’s just another fight. It’s just another ongoing discussion that will never be resolved.

You especially hate when I’m trying to sleep. You’re the roommate that never gives me a break, never lets me have a quiet, undisruptive slumber. Why’s that? Why can’t you just shut off?

But you do sometimes. There are times when you do actually shut off. You let my body take over. This happens mainly during sex, the thought of it, the vision of it, mostly the action of it. You don’t tell me what to do then do you? You let my body release itself, to go with the flow without interruptions from you. So why can’t you be this easy on a regular basis?

And then there are times where I just want to hug you forever. When I come up with an idea for a story that is different from anything I wrote before, or sometimes on a bigger scale, different from what anyone has written before. I want to smother you with kisses for that. I want to give you a toast (of course with apple cider not champagne). This is how I see it going: We are all gathered here for a special reason. There is someone in my life that I would like to thank with all my heart. With all that is in me. My whole body agrees (for once) *laughter chimes in*. She sometimes annoys the crap out of me, since she can beat the energizer bunny in any race *more laughter*, but she has given me inspiration, motivation, imagination for this wonderful book that is now number one on the New York Times bestseller list. Without her, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t even be talking let alone giving a toast. Let’s all raise a glass to the one person who has meant the most to me … my mind. *APPLAUSE *

I’ve realized how important you are. Even if you are mostly an annoyance, I absolutely need you. So yes, I may hate you at times, but without my ability to imagine, to write, I wouldn’t have any purpose in life.
So thank you. Thank you for everything.

Yours truly,
Kristin Jane Smith



By: Kristin Jane Smith

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