Something I Wrote A Long Time Ago

I believe I am two people. One lives in my head and swirls around my mind. The other lives outside my skin, creating a film around me, controlling my appearance. That’s the me people see, that’s Ruth. I believe that the me in my mind wants to get out, her name is Elizabeth because I saw Elizabeth Taylor on a talk show once and I thought she was so pretty and intelligent!. She wants live in my skin and in my heart and in my feet. She wants to sweep the filmy encasing of me aside and rescue me. She wants to take over. She wants to encompass me.
When I tell people of my beliefs, I’m pushed aside like a crazy person. That’s why I stay inside. My husband doesn’t want to touch me. He thinks I am not fit to see anyone. He’s taken his ring off, I still have mine on.
“You weren’t always like this Ruth. You were fun once.”
I was fun, but it hurt when I was fun. It hurt that I was staying up all night with him. It hurt that I wanted to just have a glass of milk instead of the beer he was pouring down my throat. I laughed because I had nothing else to say and I was uncomfortable with his hand on my knee.
Elizabeth kept pushing on the walls of my brain, begging to get out. Begging to stand up for me, she pushed and pushed until I got a headache, which I blamed on the beer. Elizabeth would try to sneak down to my mouth, so that I could stand up for myself. So that I could tell Leroy to stop it and that I wasn’t having fun. I would keep my mouth closed tight and then she would get angry, make me sick, and I would throw up in Leroy’s lap.
When I was little I was like this, only I was accepted for who I was because I was alone most of the time. By choice mostly. I didn’t like the kids on the block. I didn’t like to be around them for long periods of time, sleepovers, playdates. I would get restless and make up an excuse to go home. I loved my room and my yard where I had privacy. It was harder when you’re older because if you have two fighting personalities, they tend to distract you. When I was around other girls I could feel a tingle from the Ruth film and Elizabeth screaming to get out. I could feel her push up against my skin and I would feel as if I would explode. Then I would be in my room and Elizabeth would go over every embarrassing stupid thing Ruth said and I would cry.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying. It hurts me that you’re like this Ruth.” My mother. I love my mother. I love her so much, I feel guilty about everything I do. I feel guilty about trying to silence myself. I feel guilty about drinking and doing whatever Leroy says. I feel guilty about listening to Elizabeth. When I told my mother that I didn’t want to be in my life anymore, she got angry. Elizabeth was shoving words in my mouth and everything came out wrong. She hurts me sometimes, although she wants to save me. That’s why I’m here, rolling into the operating room where they’ll give that procedure. I hope I’ll have at least one of me left.