Be Nice To Charlie Sheen

Today is one of those days where we are running on "auto-pilot" for the most part, some things we get, some things we don't. We've been floating back and forth for the last couple of days between knowing who we are, and then being not so sure; because we are used to this is does not alarm us, now we are just discussing amongst us who we are today (knock, knock! Who's there?). There are some consistences, luckily, because there are things we agree on, and some shared memory, there are some constants in our life.

There are things we agree on, like, that we have to go to work, to pay our bills - even though we need to ask to be reminded sometimes about what to do at work - and keep lists of tasks we to repeat every week, and we misplace everything, and lose stuff...including people. We agree we have to write everyday, so we can keep track of ourselves - at last little. We agree that we love FNA.

So here's the thing about shifting between us, and other us's...we started this entry last night and while taking a quick break and Tweeting, we got a pounding headache when someone said something rude to us, someone who reads our blog, and thinks we should just suck it up, because "bad things happen to everybody". Mean things people say to the mentally ill, mean things people say when they don't understand everybody has a different brain, just like everybody has a different body. While there are consistencies, there can be dramatic differences. Pick up a nonfiction book about history, and a book about chick-lit. Visually they are the same, they have pages and a cover, and words. Open them up, they are different. 

If you are lost in that analogy, we can't help you.

So when this thing was said to us, our head pounded hard, we got a little dizzy, and when we came back to work on the rest of what we were writing....we didn't remember where we were going to go with what we were writing. Which actually has happened a lot to us. Luckily it kind of makes sense, even if there is no real conclusion. (but does there have to be?)

To keep track of what we all write, we're leaving the original entry, we'll just clean it up a bit for spelling, grammar and punctuation....so here you have it....we don't know who wrote it, we only know who came here while we were writing and gave up, because he doesn't like to write much about nonsense.

So, here you go. We'll say goodbye here and let you read about Charlie Sheen.

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Okay, so it's no secret that we, as in us, take up resident in Franks head, we have Dissociative Identity Disorder (link to our DID Info page), a mental health condition. We are open about it for a variety reasons, all of which are scattered around this blog along with wonderful and beautiful things we have written, stories of our life, pictures of our artwork, drivel and the ramblings of few of Us that have problems. So, we're mentally ill. And being mentally ill we can recgize our own...like, the real ones; probably in the same way gay men can really "smell his own", so goes it for the mentally ill. At least these mentally ill ones.

We know this, for a fact - people who have afflictions similar to ours, we can see the recognition in their eyes. We cannot tell you why at this time because it would give a little too much information to our local readers; of which we assume we have a few, ones that actually don't know who we are, in addition to the ones who knew The Other Girl; this information would also give away too much about our general life.

So, you're saying, what the hell does this have to do with Charlie Sheen?

When Charlie Sheen first started to unravel, we thought it was drugs that caused him problems. And so we played around with his #tigerblood and poked fun, depending on the day, about his #winning status. As time moved on, and reports came in about he may not have been on drugs when he was rambling about Tigerblood, having passed his drug test; we thought,..."that's strange". Someone suggested he could have went off cocaine/drugs for a few days, as cocaine only last in the system for about 3 days. Think about a drug addict, of proportions that people assumed Charlie Sheen is/was. Do you really think someone with a real drug problem could easily go off of cocaine...for three days...and still keep his shit together? He didn't have his shit together when he was theoretically ON drugs. Going off drugs, if he indeed had as much of a problem as the media and the public claimed he had, would require Treatment. Like with other movie stars....are you following this now?

So, thinking about this we realized, that the secret to being able to completely lose your shit, something we are slipping nearer and nearer to on any given day...is to have so much money that people discount it as not serious. Must be fucking nice.

What we don't like, when we observe from our end of it, is how disturbing it is that people don't see a man who just might...just might need some real help.

He got booed in Cleveland...he has been rambling about shit that makes no sense. (even though this asshole from the Telegraph thinks differently <- its called having the money to be mentally ill - other people have to keep their shit together, and work hard at it - because they HAVE TO - please note: this comment was added by the personality that wrote the beginning of this entry)

And people, in all their reality TV stupidness, they eat it up with a a huge spoon - buying tickets to watch this man in his mentally ill breakdown perform like a monkey on stage, and then have the audacity to boo and critique it. He's the rich brother of the village idiot. And people are capitalizing on it. Even if he is too, it doesn't matter.

We may be off base, it could all be an act - if it, then he's a giant GIANT douche bag - and a fantastic actor; but we've talked to a couple people about this and they seem to agree. Somebody needs to get that man some help. Ignorant.

Look at him. We know that look. Be nice to him.