Original Post : Meet My Twin
My twin and I were born the same year, month and day. We were raised apart. In most of life, I never saw her. I didn’t know she existed, but she was always there. She went to sleep with me every night and put the world on top of my chest. She accompanied me to my corner and made me cry telling me stories of a world I wasn’t part of. She was my best friend…I just didn’t know. You see, I only saw my twin in my dreams and when I looked in the mirror. I just didn’t know it was her. I’m still the only one that can see her.
Sometimes my twin leaves me for a while but I always know she’ll come back. I wish she wouldn’t but the familiarity of her presence is almost comforting. It’s almost comforting to cry for no reason, to panic at the thought of something I did that has no significance at all, to get angry at things you can’t control, to sleep beside her all day because she begs me to say in bed, to eat everything in sight or avoid all of it. It’s almost comforting. Almost.
What people don’t understand is that for as long as I can remember my twin and I have been one. I have to fight her to let other people in, to get out of bed every day, to bathe, to pee, to look in the mirror and not see her. I have to fight her and you can’t do it for me. You can’t even see her. But believe me when I say…I have a twin.
Her name is Depression. Her last name Anxiety. Isn’t that a lovely name?