Hey there.
Hey, kiddo. How's things?
Not too good at the moment, I'm afraid.
What's up?
I'm having trouble with some of my...worse instincts.
That again, sweetie? But you've been doing so well!
Yeah, well, I saw the razor in the tub, and it took a long time to convince myself not to touch it.
You didn't, then?
No, I stayed safe.
I'm proud of you, sweetie. Wanna talk about what happened?
I s'pose. D'you have any idea how hard it is to try to explain to your parents why you're a part of GSA without coming out and admitting that you're gay?
I can imagine that it would be difficult.
Try nearly impossible. I mean, how am I supposed to make up reasons that sound intelligent when I can't words in the first place? At least Mom took pity on me and gave me some questions to answer. I mean, shouldn't they know by now, seventeen and a half years in, that I have trouble with satisfactorily answering vague questions? Haven't they seen my utter frustration enough to know that I need more specific parameters for what they want to hear? Saying that does kinda seem like I'm tailoring my answer to them. Maybe that's true. That's probably true, actually. But maybe instead I should say "what they want to know". It sounds more accurate.
And you wanted to...?
Well, I've been dealing with stupid all day, and I'm pretty fed up with it. And Mom was preaching about how we're supposed to just accept the stupid and the logic-less and move on. Obviously, seventeen and a half years haven't been enough to learn that I thrive in order, when everything is in its correct place, and things make sense. I mean, I sometimes have to force things into order just to stay sane. It's all that practice that makes me so good at retconning.
At least you can always hide in your room.
Yeah, but that comes with problems of its own. Mom always nags at me when I spend too much time up there. And Dad gets pissed off when I'm in my room and listening to music and can't hear him calling.
But he knows that it helps, doesn't he?
You'd think. But I tell them so many things that help, and it gets better for a little while, but then... they forget or something and it goes back to the way it was.
Try telling them again.
Then I feel like I'm nagging.
Sometimes you have to. You know that.
Doesn't stop them from yelling at me...
I know.
Maybe I should just live in my bedroom from now on.
That'd be impractical. You have to eat and go to school. I'm sure you can wait until next August.
Yeah, I probably can. Maybe I'll whine a lot more, so that I don't self-destruct, but I'll get through.
If you tell your friends, I doubt they'll begrudge you weekly whining sessions.
Yeah, they're awesome like that. Hey, thanks for listening.
It's what I'm here for.
Have you ever had a conversation with yourself like this? You're not crazy. Well, if you are, I am, too, but at least we're sane enough to admit it, right? In any case, I often find it helpful to talk to myself, because I know the solution to a problem, and I know I know it, but I just can't figure it out. The back and forth of conversation always helps. Try it sometime, why don't you?
