Christ, help me.
I am far less exciting than my current writing history might suggest. Let’s try this one more time today and see if this works.
For the record, over the course of the past 3 consecutive days I have written this entry no less than a dozen times. Sometimes the endeavor was the culmination of several hours plus unwavering concentration and dedication to getting my thoughts out of my head, and honestly anywhere else besides trapped inside of me. The thought topics in question seemed to have changed with every single draft I scrapped. Some of the drafts were saved and emailed backed to myself, tombs I have to confess will probably never be opened. Its been a “thing” as of late.
I dont have notes on my cellphone so i brain vomit in an email which either sits in drafts pending or gets sent to my name. It will remain in purgatory forever. I am a emotional thought process hoarder. The thought of deleting these long and drawn out entries is repugnant. What if I need to recall them? If the memory loss steals what I know and yet im positive I documented the time frame, perhaps future me would like to have the option. I just need the option i guess.
To know these thoughts that are centering around a specific emotional response to a situation exist somewhere and god, theyre embarrassing, let them die there. OR, god, I wish I could relive that fleeting moment - if only perhaps....you emailed them to yourself?
So ive been emotional thoughts hoarding. Sue me.
Sometimes, after writing what feels like an entire lifetime, id come up for air and decide NOPE. nope, get it the fuck out. This one does not get added to the hoard, promptly delete all 50 pages at once. Take a breather. Go outside and chain smoke for no less than 40 minutes and start new with something different.
We’ve rinsed and repeated this dance the whole entire weekend and now im enraged at myself mostly because I can not commit to one single line of thought to fucking save me, and this irks me straight into oblivion, directly to the fucking shadow realm.
A lot has happened since ive been here last.
And I would know, not only had I lived it, I also was the madman trying to shit it out with my finger tips.
Im not going to get into everything.
I dont know what im going to get into, actually.....Saint James the beheaded, fucking save me, its happening again. I hate whatever the fuck this new idea is maybe more than the others and im compelled to deleted it then swiftly fling my body into the ocean to escape this hell scape of mental confusion and gymnastics.
Fuck.
I met my kind that I was looking for somewhere out it the world.
And it was exactly as i had imagined, anticipated, and concluded my entire life of searching.
It happened just as quickly as it died down and now im on a vow of silence after a emotionally tumultuous relationship with the textbook carbon copy of julie. My twin. But....in the male form. Yes, he was terribly attractive, devistatingly witty and clever, criminally intelligent, and we shared almost the same comorbidry. honestly, I dont think youd come any closer.
It went a step further....we had too much in common.
God definitely was laughing at me.
Like, enough to make it eerie, do you know what I mean?
For example when we were getting introductions out of the way I was explaining my household dynamic and I told him something thats been more of a private inside joke.
That for the past 3 years, but more specifically the last year and a half, I have referred to myself as only “the ghost”.
I do not have an identity here. Im not even furniture. Im a spectator, I roam or glide in between rooms, and especially at night with my insomnia. Those are peak hours.
I told me male that from about 9pm to 4am thats my time to shine, and when I can be in full ghost glory.
Of course me make let’s me tell the entire insufferable plot of this nickname before cutting me off and telling me:
“Youre not going to believe this. I call myself ‘the ghost’.”
And I said to me male:
“Stop trying to be so charming, youre already so pretty you won me over instantly, there is no way in hell you nicknamed yourself that. Ive never heard anyone in my life claim that title”.
And male me says back
“Actually, im not trying to charm you at all. Look, right here. Its tattooed on my collarbone, I cant believe you say the same words about yourself, this is wild”
And right there on me male written clear as day in black ink is our shared nickname: the ghost.
Its not every day you find the male version of yourself with your identical comorbidry that youve relentless begged god to meet, and oddly enough, you have an obscure title you share.
Curious.
Until we soon found out me male was born 3 days before christmas. As you know, I am born 3 days after christmas.
Hm. Now, what are the odds of this happening as well, tied into the nickname on top? What are the chances of that maybe?
Suspicious.
I told him immediately that we were clearly soul mates destined to be together, crush me with the news of how much distance there is between us.
He enjoyed my sense of humor, it perfectly complimented his. How couldn’t it?
For reference I am in CT and we ran into eachother in a common group that I found 5 months ago on my quest to finding answers about this version of myself and held out small hope that maybe id find relatable humans for the first time ever.
And male me says, before ive told him anything about myself mind you and none of it is on my page:
“Well I live here in xyz down south. But I was born and raised in CT. Grew up there”.
I refused to believe him.
There was too much funny buisness going on,
What are the odds that 2 mental folks with identical disabilities, the same name, the same birthday, and now growing up in the same tiny, often forgotten state.....what could the odds of this be, what are my chances of finding the only other julie living and theyre an identical copy?
God is hilarious, I begged him for decades, requesting that if one other me exists somewhere in the world just make them known. Once. Thats it, im not greedy, I will recognize them immediately, I only want to know that im not truly all alone. Surely you had to have made atleast one other of my species, you wouldn’t have let me roam the earth in perpetual solitude, would you god? Please, just one time I can be seen and heard and
Understood.
God took my request literally. I was talking to male me and god thought it would be a terribly humorous joke if it wasnt just our brains and personality that were copied, we’ll give you the entire life down to the letter.
Sure, it continued happening even when we tried to downplay how strange this was getting now.
Hed tell a very specific and detailed story about past events he lived through
And I had the exact same story from my own memory.
It was so unbelievable I just starting cutting him off and correctly predicting the rest of this memories.
We do the same exact wake up out of your sleep arm thing.
I AM NOT EXPLAINING WHAT THIS IS
But trust me, its a huge fucking deal and NOBODY knows this about me,
Because it has to be done in your sleep, and the specific process itself wakes you up out of said sleep,
And what happens next it crucial to the explanation of the “wake up out of your sleep arm thing”. Yes I have shared bed occupancy with plenty of other humans both platonically and romantically. But luckily my sleep was never disturbed by this phenomena so ive never had to explain it to another human. And good riddance, who the fuck would understand if they saw such a thing?
Apparently a gentleman whom I recently learned exists would understand. Because he has done this since childhood as well.
And when this was discovered we were talking about weird stims and tics. He brought up the arm thing very casually and nonchalant, bringing it up as a weird thing that makes him feel good as well as satisfied.
He thought I was going to laugh.
And trust me, I wanted to laugh.
I was not anticipating him stealing my “thing”.
I am almost offended at this point.
The audacity that me male has, to be a copy of Julie …but better.
Now for the intent of this story imagine that keeps happening for the duration of about 3 weeks with nonstop talking, only to pause to go to sleep.
You know my freak insomnia anomaly?
Yup.
Male me has it, too. Everything. Is. Identical.
And trust me, I made him prove the majority of his claims and he obliged every time.
I even insufferabley demanded to see his medical chart, I swore he was fucking copying me. It was rediculous.
It was all right there. And by day 3 of knowing we existed we just kind of stopped being alarmed.
It was more of a high key annoyance now.
Yes, male me had my identical ego as well.
Neither one of us could quite get on board with the other one stealing our weird or out shining our history and subsequent personality.
I was being out done by a man of all things, and this had never happened before.
And christ, was he a good looking man every aspect.
Whatever your imagining is probably how the 3 week period was.
We were getting incessant. Attached. Emotionally invested. Way too fast and at a rate way too alarming to be sane.
And listen, male me had far better rationality and a grip on whats practical and sensible.
There were moments we were both utterly detached and the next moment id contemplate things privately to myself in an objective manner. He would come to these conclusions publicly and very vocally, trying to work out processing in real time while I was present.
Peculiar.
He was julie. But way, way better at it. A substantially better version of julie for all intents and purposes.
It got hectic. What little sleep we could get from shared meds that barely work - we refused.
Would forget to eat whole days until it was
“Fuck. Do you remember what the last thing I ate was?”
We both stopped participating in life, just to be momentarily entranced by eachother popping in at the worse time possible.
We had to calm down.
I knew we wouldn’t.
We frequently spoke about this crashing spectacularly and we both spoke in jest of our broken hearts wed soon nurse from our very swift divorce after our whirlwind affair.
I said to me male:
“You know, we cant be friends after this. Very soon when this timeline ends the only way is totally no contact as if this bizarre shit never took place at all. You’ll be a limerick, maybe. No....that implies im psychotic, while youre half to blame. A hallucinations well chalk this up to. A fever dream. We never coexist on the same timeline, actually. And then in the somewhere distant future you’ll try and find me, to prove to yourself this really happened. And when you do find me, im only going to say one incomplete sentence before putting you back into exile once more. Were not friends me male. We can not keep eachother as such in any capacity. No contact all the way”.
And he agreed.
The best decision we’ve made probably. And the healthiest as well, vanishing totally off the map would be the only way to severe any type of lingering emotional connection. Me male said he was personally “emotionally clingy to you, my heart will broken just much”.
How fantastic!
Can you only imagine how dramatic and drawn out and emotionally messy
The very last conversation before ensuring the other could not contact the other in any capacity moving forward ended up being?
I mean.
Of course it could happen. If we both mutually took the other off of blocked and banned. And one reached out.
But I know this man.
That is not happening anytime soon. Ever.
The last message was enough for a whole movie plot and would for sure keep an audience captivated.
I think it would win some awards.
And we both were genuine and real the entire time.
Well, youd just have to live it to understand! I know perfectly well the entire thing is psychotic
Even the damn ending is remarkably mad.
And thats just as well.
Because it was real to me.
It was real to male me, too.
It just so happened that we communicated our thought process and emotional disregulation immediately, with zero filters, and we totally could not stop.
It was embarrassing. That’s how good it was.
It was the type of gross-bad that you can look at with post brief codependency and laugh about it.
Christ, was he the most sensitive man alive, definitely the only one ive ever met.
And he was abnormally large for a man on top of this, perhaps thats why I didn’t find him being so needy and emotional offensive.
Quite the opposite, it was refreshing.
It needed to die prematurely before it got more any worse and we knew every other possible scenario had an outcome 100x more terrible because we were talking to eachother freely about everything.
We pinky promised eachother we’d have the
“Closure conversation” no matter how difficult it was, because we felt like the other deserved it.
We both knew exactly when the closure conversation was going to happen.
The anticipation was too much.
The two main characters gave exceptionally overwhelming performances.
They were like old timey dear John letters had a baby with 18th century Gothic romance poetry.
It was. Disgusting.
I’ll have in preserved in my memory forever.
Well.
Until that cheeky memory loss catches up, that is probably my very real future and not remembering this at any lasting capacity at all.
Very fitting.
It was a dramatic first day following our departure from eachothers existence.
It was melancholy. And lonely now. I was nursing a broken heart, truly.
I could bet me male was doing the same exact thing in a totally different part of the world.
Now it feels....like a very surreal lore I have about a psychotic break I lived through because certainly nothing about that chaotic and rather stupid tale could be real.
If I think about some of the things… I giggle to myself and am tickled something so strange turned into an entire event and experience.
If this sounds mental, please, you must remember
I had been waiting all my life to find this person,
Yes, that much is very true. I did not know me would be showing up in the form of man, I envisioned multiple scenarios where it was anyone, even a child.
The vessel never mattered to me. I just wanted to know my kind existed and I wasnt alone.
I wasnt meant to hang on to them in any capacity. That was always the silent assumption.
God is hilarious.
He’d never let me keep a copy of myself if he decided to reveal there was another. Not a chance in hell. Something would have happened to take them just as quickly. No doubt.
God is never kind.
Thats why id given up my resignation over finding another one of my kind a very, very long while back. I was with full certainty I was soley on my own, just painfully aware of how I never belonged with the rest, an entire life on the outskirts. A long breath I had inhaled from the day I was born, just waiting.....and I never could finally let it go. Wasn’t happening. Not in the cards.
This is why finding me male was so unusual because I didn’t see it coming at all. And I hadn’t begged god for this in years upon years.
I simply did not
Exist.
But.
If I did? And god let me know it?
The only appropriate outcome would be
Ripping the second other human away
So I would be left with nothing but faint memories and the distinct acknowledgment that
Somewhere
I do not know where at all
But somewhere
Another Julie is walking this earth
And they speak just how I speak. We communicate in a very unique way. Their personality was born exactly as mine was, and they were the only other creatures that saw me
It was the first time in my life I was understood
In totality.
That other Julie is out there. Proof that I am not an endangered species, because I am
Not alone.
Not ever, not so long as they walk the earth as well.
And there’s a comfort and saftey
In being able to say that most definitely.
Sure, I may not ever be seen again. But I can fucking breathe knowing I was once, that one very peculiar and neurotic time frame I had substance and wasnt merely a fleeting spirit.
Tragic almost. Only if I wasnt wasting the first half of my life for this lore. But I was prepared.
It does feel validating in a sense. Even if I didn’t speak it to a soul. I have never said his name out loud.
And I wouldn’t ever. That couldn’t have really happened anyway. I was dreaming. Perhaps psychosis. Wordsmith and inventor of fiction.
Hyperbole.
Exaggeration.
Maddness?
Sure, sure, very well then and all that jazz or whatever.
I guess thats the entire update.
I found the lost me. And im real. And thats very much enough knowledge and excitement for this year.
3 months in? A bunch of other nonsense has happened. A bunch of other mundane yet important and difficult things. Perhaps i will write about those far less mentally frightening situations tomorrow. I feel like this entry was big enough in its own right, and definetly not what I had planned.
But its not every day you find yourself, I dont think, not when youre of the total populace. It was my rare moment of excitement and change
And I really must be going now, im very sorry. You see ive been oh so very busy, and I have far too much work to finish, and its all so much right now, I must insist I have to go.
For the first time in 10 years
I gave myself permission and allowed myself to play music. I was.....floored.
The music lasted approximately 1 whole week.
Of course, it has since been turned off and I am forbidden once more from the sound.
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