Dearly beloved,
We gather here to celebrate the death of Eunice. That’s right, the death of that bitch. You’ve never heard anyone admit they’re happy for someone to die, have you?
Well you’ve never been to the funeral of someone’s inner critic. Buckle up, it’s gonna be a wild ride, kids.
Eunice…well, she was an interesting one. I can’t really remember when we met—it feels like we’ve always known each other. If I had to guess, she was brought to me by Estrogen and the Patriarchy. Maybe it was her that taped that Wide Load sign to my back in middle school and then tried to hitch a lifetime ride.
She wasn’t that bright either. Jealous of my course load of all honors classes in high school, she’d whisper in my ear “they won’t like you if you try. If you want friends, don’t be a nerd and study. You’ll be fine.” How was the new girl to know any different? Of course I wanted friends, and Eunnie always stayed if I listened to her, so she was right, right?
That Eunnie, she really wanted to see the nation’s capital. The seat of power and greed? It was right where she belonged. She fit right in with all those Brads and Chads.
You want people to like you, don’t you, she’d whisper? You’re too big, come hide by me, she’d cackle. Be tiny like me, we can hide together.
She always said she’d haunt me, and she’s trying to help me write this. “You don’t really know me. Someone else can do this better,” she whispers in my ear. But we’re here to bury.
Ole Eunice was only afraid of a few things—alcohol and my mom. Wine, vodka, beer all melted down her down like the wicked witch of the west she was. (Jager was a different story. Of course that bitch liked jager.) I could sneak to parties without her, although she always came to the pre-game with me and snuck me notes telling me that the boys would like me better if I put out. “Nobody likes a prude.”
That shapeshifter even got herself encoded into my student ID that I swiped at the dining hall. “Psssssssst you’re getting too much attention, you’re just going to fuck it up. If you keep eating shit, we can hide together. I promise I won’t let these boys hurt you if you put on some padding to keep us safe.”
Like everyone else, she knew not to fuck with that Sicilian lady from NJ. Carol telling me how proud she was of me and how she thought I was good at everything was her kryptonite. I’M MELTINGGGG
When I graduated and started working, she got one of those mugs that said “if you don’t have anything nice to say, sit with me.” Some of my bosses and coworkers knew better, but a few of them LOVED her and they conspired together.
She didn’t have the best eyesight but was too vain to get glasses, contacts even. I CAN SEE JUST FINE, she’d retort. When I did lose weight and was excited about my hot little bod, she’d tell me I still looked the same. Here my pretty, grab this big sack of a dress, don’t you want to be comfortable?
When Carol died, though, she saw her chance. She became even more powerful. “No more mommy to keep you safe, huh?????” Eunnie sat quietly at the wake and funeral, melted by the love that bolstered me. “You’ll never be happy again! See, everyone leaves you!” she’d say when that first rush of well-wishers died down.
Oooh, she didn’t like ketamine either. Yeah—I’d literally anesthetize my brain to try to exorcise her. In my defense (I have none), it was an act of self-defense! She tried to kill me, telling me I’d never amount to anything, I’d never meet anyone, I’d be alone the rest of my life—just the way she wanted it so she could have me for herself.
The more therapy I had, the weaker she felt herself getting, and the louder she tried to yell, even getting physical when I tried to ignore her, finding a dull, rusty vice to clamp around my skull, gleefully tightening the screws, giving me chronic headaches.
When she started touching my body like that, it was game over for that bitch, and I began to starve her by treating myself the best I could. Affirmations, slowing down, self-compassion.
She never stood a chance. As I meditated, took cleansing deep breaths, I took life from her and gave it to me, until she was a shell of her old inflated self. Finally, she was on life support, .
I went to visit, looked her straight in her devilish eyes—and pulled the plug, bringing us here today.
Without a doubt, she’ll haunt me, but I’m not afraid of ghosts.
—
Welcome back to my newsletter, friends?! I know it’s been a really long time, so I figured I’d wake you up with something really different, with this draft that’s been sitting on my computer.
I’m tempted to give you a long explanation of why it’s been so long since I’ve written here but the tldr is that it’s been a wild rollercoaster of a past few months, including starting a new job, turning 40, an unexpected and tumultuous trip back to the east coast, moving (only in the building!!), etc.
I spent the weekend with a friend who just got a book deal, and there was a lot of writing talk and made me realize how much I’ve missed writing, what a part of me it is. So I’m back, bitches.