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Okay, since you've all gone ahead and decided to sound madder than usual, I might as well post my own admission of insanity.
I only have my voice, both mental and spoken. I recognize it as my own; I know who I am and how I think. But when I'm by myself, sometimes I completely split. I go by a different name, take on a different persona. Her name is Astrid, and she's here unnoticed by the rest of the humans (apparently she's a different race from us). She has an entire history, a seperate family, a completely different life from my own. "My" voice sounds different when I'm speaking as her.
The thing is, she isn't alone. She has five friends who tag along with her at different times. I can put names and personalities to each of them.
Cassiel, the over-protective one who is obsessed with keeping her safe and healthy. His one priority is her, and he loves her because of that. Ikaras, the cold and harsh woman who snaps at her and mocks humanity. Twilli, the happy-go-lucky one who's sole purpose is cheering Astrid up (she isn't there very often.) Taro, the slightly psycho man torn between caring for Astrid and killing her. And Oliza, the teacher and mentor who always seems to know best.
Astrid never quite sees these friends of hers. . .I can't trick myself that much. I know that I articulate their voices (yes, I quite literally talk to myself), but for some reason I never really know what they're going to say. Their emotions, their reactions, they're always a mystery. And if one of them wanted to touch Astrid's face, for example, it would be my fingers doing the task, but I would be unaware of it. It's a confusing and complicated illusion.
An illusion, that's what it is. . .if I know that, then why does it hurt to think of it that way? There have been a few times I pulled Astrid back in the middle of one of her conversations with Cassiel and snapped at him with something like "What do you know? You're all in my head, not even real, just a figment of imagination!"
And for a moment, he's gone. I can't feel him anymore; his words don't come out of my mouth. It's just me, lonely me. I hate that feeling. It crushes down around me, and I give power back to Astrid, who promptly whispers apologies and pleads until Cassiel returns.
So now I don't try to crush Astrid anymore. She's a part of me, and so are the rest of them. They're the voices in my head, people who will never exist outside of my mind. They're not real; they're so much more than that. I've placated myself by thinking, "It doesn't hurt anyone, me being Astrid. And if I don't tell anyone, they won't have to worry about it." Now I don't think about her anymore, and she never acknowledged my presence in the first place.
I know this sounds unbelieveable. Astrid and her entire world are the products of an idle mind. And there will never be evidence of her to anyone but myself; see, when there are other people around, I can hardly ever force her out. I have to know that I'm alone for her to come out, but that's not all. I have to have no ties to the world. I can't be actively thinking about other things, otherwise I can't feel her at all. Example: I typed this all in one sitting, completely focused, and felt nothing from Astrid or her friends about it. I got up a few minutes ago to get a drink, and she took over. One of her friends, either Taro or Cassiel, was yelling at her for potentially exposing her secret. Apparently Astrid typed this, not me (that's what they believed, anyway. I know for sure these are my words). Astrid then turned to me, which is a first. . . Except, since I was Astrid, it was like viewing myself from third person. Astrid was furious with me as well, for making her type this up. It's given me a very large headache, because even now, she's in the very back of my mind, telling me not to send this, to delete it all now. Or is that me, thinking I should delete it so that I don't sound insane? I can't tell the difference.
Ah. . .ouch. I just reread this, and every time I mention Astrid being all inside my mind, there's this feeling of. . .anger and sadness. It's not me reacting to those words; I couldn't care less. It's her. Ow. This reminds me. . .I've tried to capture her life in writing, in an attempt to let her have time to stretch that I can control, and it flows out quite nicely. She knows what she's like, what she's done, and it's natural for me/her to write about it. But I know I can never show those writings to anyone, because there's something in my mind that wouldn't let me. Either it's me, telling myself that it would sound insane if I tried to explain the origins of the writings to anyone, or it's Astrid, telling me she would be murderous if I let other people know about her even that much.
Speaking of which, you people are the first EVER to know about her and what she is (which explains, if not pardons, the lengthy post), and I swear, I have the most horrible headache. . .
Oh my god. I'm completely mental.
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