Chapter 9 self

It is said that some psychopaths can have more than one self.Among them was a beautiful bright young woman who was suffering from the disease and had recently been sponsored to appear on a TV talk show to show her multiple selves and their conflicts.She said she had owned, or been owned by, no fewer than eight other women herself.The women were all different, had their own names, quarreled and ostracized each other, all trying to control the whole entity, causing endless confusion and embarrassment.They want to get rid of them all, except of course themselves. Professionals call such people hysterical, or schizophrenic.I've also heard that nothing can seem to be done about them.Having more than one self is considered a serious pathology in itself.There is no known way to keep the intruders away.

I'm not sure that the number of different selves is so pathological in itself: I hope that's not pathological.In my personal opinion, eight selves is a reasonably small number that is not difficult to manage.It's their presence at the same time that's really problematic.I think psychiatrists would do a better job of persuading them to stand in line, as we normal people do.Can't they be conditioned by rewards or mild threats of punishment? "Hello, I'm very glad to see you here. I have exactly fifty-five minutes, no more, no less. I won't accompany you after this time, because there are others coming. But, can we meet again on time at this time tomorrow?" A peppermint chocolate bar, please, and talk, just the two of us." That might work, at least to get them in some sort of order.

To be honest, tell me that having more than one self is a disorder that would embarrass me.I've had so many selves in my life that I can't count them all, and I've managed to keep in touch with them all.One big difference, which keeps me feeling normal all the time, is that my (our) egos just emerge one by one.Five years ago, I was not this person.It was a young lad who did and said things I could not possibly agree with now.Ten years ago I was a stranger.Twenty or forty years ago... I was at a loss.What you would call a morbid thing, I've only experienced one thing, that there was a gap in the middle of the line, one was finished, dropped out, the next one wasn't ready, didn't pick up, and the field was empty for a while .Thankfully, I only remember three or four times that happened.Once I had grown into a big child, but the young man hadn't appeared yet.There were two more times later, it seemed that I was confused for a while.Don't know who will be next.For the rest of the time, they come by number in a regular manner. When the one in front gives a hint, the one behind is ready to take over. Sometimes they are out of breath and need to explain the situation temporarily, but there is no delay, and they always go unswervingly. go down.It's amazing how quickly things change.They don't need much background.I can't remember who that person was five years ago.I just remember that he was studying linguistics and had just discovered the world of philosophy.But without accomplishing much, he left.

To be honest, there were a few times when they came together, like those girls on TV, making a lot of noise and wanting to be favored.They make up whole committees, a housing committee, a budget committee.A whining committee, and even a membership committee, don't know how they got in there.There was never a chairman.Of course I am not.At best, I'm an administrative assistant.Never an agenda.In the end, I had to send some fruits, snacks and the like to refresh everyone. What are we having a meeting for?Hard to say.The door opened with a bang, and Hu Lala and the others rushed in, calling for a quick meeting, and then they all started talking together.Strangely enough, it wasn't just babbling; they would leave some space in their speech so that words spoken by one would slip into the gaps left silently by the others.In good times, it felt like an extremely complicated conversation, but in other days, it sounded more like the cacophony heard in the distance in a crowded station.Even worse, the stops of the voices are not synchronized, but interrupt each other; at that time, it is as if all the files were suddenly blown off the desktop by a gust of wind.

We never solved any problems.In recent years, I have sensed that they have become increasingly impatient with me—whoever they think I am—and coming to me no matter what their circumstances are.They don't show up on time and say things aren't in good shape.However, they have begun to have an urgent need.What is most needed is a chairman. Worst case, is when I wish I had only one self.I figured out a way to go out at night, go to the beach, look at the sky full of stars, and think hard: become one, become one.Never mind, never mind.You just felt a lift.Started to turn, the mental clock whirred, and was about to strike the chime when the other-selves began to speak again.No matter what I think, they always say, no, that's not the case at all.

There was only one way to silence them, to stop them from talking, and that was to play music.This method works.Bach makes them stop right there every time, as if that's what they've been waiting for.