What If,

I think, therefore I am

I am constantly thinking
And so are they,
The voices who share my brain with me.

Not long ago,
I thought they were something to fight,
Something to banish
To exile
To overcome.

But now,
Thinking on it,
Being with it,
I am realizing more and more
They are something to befriend.

When they tell me they want me dead,
They are not angry with me
They are protecting something they feel is right.

I cannot fault them for that.

I, too, protect what I think is right,
Namely my breath and my sanity,
And when they advocate for taking that away from me,
It feels very much like they believe it is right to deprive me of that.

But why would someone who shares a brain with me
Ever believe it is right to destroy the vessel that houses
The place we both call home?

Simply put,
They wouldn’t.

Despite what she occasionally tells me,
My brain does not want me dead.
She wants to protect things, people, and concepts
That she’s been told will protect us both.

When I ignore the drive for destruction
And my brain floods my body with paralyzing fear
That is her saying,
“It is more dangerous for us to live knowing the things we know
Than it is to die”

What if,
Instead of banishing or overcoming that thought,
I think on and be with it?

What if,
I exile my fear of understanding her,
I thank her for protecting me,
And I remind her to trust me when I say that we are safe?

What if,
When a belief seemingly makes no sense,
Perspective is the prescription for understanding?