My Inner Dialogue and I are splitting up. I.D. has been such a downer all these years, always predicting the worst, always reminding me of embarrassing moments from the past, never letting up and nearly never shutting up. A few days ago I asked him for a few minutes of peace and he flew into a rage and stormed at me for hours. That’s it. I’m through with him.
He got so jealous a few years ago when I went to a Zen meditation weekend and I flirted around with Inner Silence. He made a point of barging in right in the middle of a threesome between me, Inner Silence, and Thank God For A Moment of Peace and drove my new friends away. “I’m the only one that you can have,” he yelled. He stomped around and threatened to leave me for someone else, but who was he kidding?
Recently he kept accusing me of not being true to myself. When I asked him who my true self was, he began to cry. “Me, stupid!” he screamed in my ear. “Who’s been with you all these years warning you and keeping you out of trouble, justifying all your petty indiscretions and sins with intricately wrought justifications? Who helps you play your favorite game of inventing comebacks for arguments with people who died ten years ago? Who whispers reassuring words to you late at night when you wake up from that recurring nightmare, the one where you die old, broke and alone and are carried off to Hell by flying baboons whose butt cheeks looked like Abe Vigoda’s face? What do I tell you when you’re crying in your pillow? What do I say to you to make you calm down and go back to sleep?”
“‘Here’s your future–stop being such a crybaby.’?”
“Exactly! Only a true friend and lover would tell you the truth.”
I thanked him to try to make him go away for a second, and when he lapsed into a brief moment of self satisfaction I called the Inner Dialogue Self Abuse Hotline for advice. I.D. listened in, of course, and tried to justify his past history with the counselor. He told her that he needed to be tough on me because I was such a lazy, sex crazed, cowardly, weak excuse for a man that I would find a way to ruin my life the minute I.D.’s back was turned. He talked over the top of me and the counselor, and started in on traumatic stories from my childhood when he sensed that he was losing his grip on me. He brought up bad childhood moments with my parents and said, “See, I’m not the evil one here. These people made us what we are today. They laid down all these subconscious tapes and I’m just here to help him navigate his way through them.
The counselor suggested that we take a few moments to calm down and did a guided meditation with us. I.D. fell for her ruse and drifted off, and the counselor told me that I needed to get as far away from him as I could get. She found a place for me at a mental refugee center and told the guards to turn away anyone who looked a lot like me. The staff enrolled me in a program of intensive inner cleansing, and I’m nearly through it.
I still have moments of weakness when I miss the sound of I.D.’s voice in my mind and the reassuring familiarity of his negativity, but I’m trying to be strong. And I’ve met someone new, a guy named This Moment. He doesn’t seem to have so many preconceptions about the future and is a lot more flexible and responsive when strange, new things happen to me. I think that I’m beginning to love him, but I’m just going to let things happen at their own pace.
And besides, whenever I’ve pushed a relationship forward too quickly in the past, I’m the one who ends up getting hurt. Maybe I’m not meant to be happy. This Moment would probably be better off with someone else who has more balance in their life and a better sense of proportion…Oh, wait. There he is again.