Namely, this because I had an idea for a song, but I actually think that I'd like to focus on the idea I just outlined above. (Didn't get far with the song--just had the idea that I wanted to write a song called "Phantom Life", with a theme involved in it being...well, basically what I'm talking about here on my blog, in a sense.)
There are some times where I feel particularly awesome: "I'm doing lots of stuff!" There's lots to be proud of. Lots of good things that I am managing to do. Lots of things I have managed to stay on top of, even without being pestered about it. Stuff that I have wanted to do, I am in fact doing. I'm productive in a lot of ways, and at times, I realize it.
...Yet for the most part, there's the intense dissatisfaction in me, of me having been a failure in multiple ways. Not every way--we just outlined above why that's not the case. Yet in multiple ways, in most ways. To the point where it might as well feel like I've failed in every way even if I haven't.
There's so much I've resisted doing.
So much I want to do but have failed to do.
So many things going wrong.
And I wonder how much of it's my fault.
And my identity is in question, too. I've compartmentalized my life a great deal. Those compartments seem to have become slightly leaky, and where I once clearly knew things, now it feels like they have begun to mix together. Not exactly blend together. But...be more actively in my head, fighting for dominance as the greater me, the whole Bree, is trying to act, and finding the conflict there.
When I talked to someone about the divide between mastina and Ranger at one point, a question I had to clarify was "do you talk to her?", and I explained that it doesn't work that way. But apparently...maybe it does, because for a moment (it was only like ten seconds or so), there appeared to have been an actual conversation between myself and...myself. Between what I understand to be mastina and what I understand to be Ranger. (At the moment of typing this, not exactly either. More like, it's Bree. Or at least one version of me.)
My identity has always been complex. Ridiculously complex. Like, really, really complex. Impossible to explain. I've tried some considerable number of times, and always been unable to give it a definition. But at least I had a bit of a usual constant, in that--while there are multiple voices in my head which converse with me--none of them were actually me as I know me to be, at least, not me as I actively am.
Buried in my blog is how I've even approximated there to be two constant ones, a negative/blunt one I called David, and another one whose name has changed over time. That type of conversation is normal to me. A bit of an odd quirk, yes, but normal all the same.
...This wasn't that. This was something different. Similar. Similar to that feeling. But different. I don't even know where to begin to explain it, if it's something worth exploring, if it's anything. It's beyond my ability to rationalize, beyond my ability to comprehend.
I feel like that simultaneously, I'm not changing and yet undergoing tremendous changes. Many of them not so good, some of them for good, most of them situational dependent with the power to be good or bad with a current lean towards bad.
And part of that, I think, is how my mind is working, how it is comprehending things. Even I think at this point there's the possibility that I might just be losing my mind. I mean. It's a given that I'm quirky. That I'm not normal. That I'm unusual--even crazy. Probably not clinically insane, though you could certainly say that by the definition of doing the same thing and expecting a different result I might be.
Still, what I talk about when I go exploring the depths of my mind takes it beyond the normal. Beyond...well, beyond anything else. People who self-confess to have messed up minds feel utterly ordinary compared to me. They might have a formally-diagnosed condition, a label for themselves, or maybe they don't, they just have this weird thing which they can share.
Yet I'm a weirdo even among weirdos. I don't necessarily consider that a bad thing. I do know, however, it is in fact, actually, a thing.