Dear Mr. Mood,
You have been the gift I never utilized.
When you knock me down, you allow me to stay grounded and be reminded of how human I really am.
When you lift me up, you allow me to see how gifted and talented I am.
You’re my internal sensei; I cannot fathom your wisdom until I’m knocked down over and over and over again.
You’ve controlled me my entire life.
Not anymore, sir. Not anymore.
I will get up when you knock me down. I will not allow you to guide me anymore.
My mood will drop soon. I don’t know when and I won’t know why.
I tried to control you by abusing all the drugs I could put my hands on. I resorted to doctors, drugs & faithlessness, all in the hope of getting rid of you.
But now I know I can never get rid of you.
To kill you is to commit suicide. Literally.
And I’ve contemplated that.
You’re wise, Mr. Mood. You’re fucking sleek.
But perhaps you forgot to notice that you are part of me, and not the other way around.
You forgot how stubborn I can be.
So, Mr. Mood sensei, I’m ready for my next stage of training.