Wednesday, August 31, 2011

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern,
It goes without saying that I don't like you. You know I don't.
I tell them all the time that you shouldn't come live with us. I try to get them to tell you not to come. Why do you think they are so frantic to get you back here? Why do you think they were almost feverishly trying to find a cheaper ticket and trying to get you here by the weekend?
It's not that they don't deserve you. They don't deserve anyone, or anything.
And you make me want to scratch my eyes out, nay, your eyes out, with all the sappy shit you say to them.
I told them that when you didn't say anything last night about them saying they shouldn't write a book, but were only silent, it's because you don't think they should either. I told them that all their fears about not being good enough, not having anything new to say, all of their fears about writing a book were true, and that you not saying a word only proved it...same with how they joked about the author you are reading tonight, and said you could have saved a lot of trouble by researching and finding another sick girl (<-my term for writing, not the exact words they said) only a couple hours away. And you were I told them you probably agreed.
They're never going to be happy, you know that right? I'll make sure of it, and if you live with us I will make you watch me keep them from being happy.
Look what they've done to men, to themselves; they don't deserve anything.
I hate you.
Now if I could just convince them that all their Twitter followers hate them, and are only nice in writing, that they are all pretending to find them interesting. Then my life would be complete, and we could stop fucking around on Twitter.
You know, I kind of like that name. Think I'll change it. Thanks for naming me, James.


  1. I love them. I love them all. You are part of them and I love them so I love you as a part of them.

    Bethany, Cassandra, Catherine, Emmie, Frank, Ivy, Melody, Sam: I LOVE YOU WITH EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING. I love you and want to pend my life with you.

    I DO think they should write a book but I was worried that if I went on about it it might annoy you, I sensed agitation, I didn't realise until now why. I'm sorry.

    I didn't answer the comment about finding someone else because I wasn't sure how to deal with it bearing in mind above, I wanted a soppy reply and was in middle of writing a sentence (you know how that's like).


  2. Sorry, that should say "I DO think YOU (Franky Et Al) should write a book but I was worried that if I went on about it it might cause agitation to you (Frank Et Al).

  3. Frank, please do write that book! Your writing is so amazing, real, funny, honest and (you may laugh at this) wise. You would be giving something special to those who live with DID & MID, as well as those who need to learn about it, invaluable information and a small taste of a different world. Most memoirs of DID/MID just go from a doctor's point of view: "Let's find the crises, combine everyone and POOF! a cure!" Your point of view is so unique and so funny. I would be first in line to buy it, in all formats. Please, Frank, do write your book.

    As a Twitter-friend of yours; yes, I follow you because you are funny. But, most of all, in a medium that has way too many people being someone else, you are just you. What goes on in your blog is real and the way you keep on going, trying and just being; encourages this fibro-woman that; maybe, just maybe, I can too. Please forgive the wonky grammar, I'm having a foggy brain day.
    Hugs and Kisses (with tongue! If you wish), Minxy