The Selfish Bitch

She mocks every move I make.

Everything I say is hilarious, ridiculous, and inconsequential unless it aligns with her wants, needs, and desires.

Even when I think I’m doing the right thing, it will be wrong somehow in her eyes unless I submit to her every whim and demand.

I act on her will so I can avoid the shame, arguments, and physical pain she causes me.

She never gave the other two a chance to develop and grow the way they should.

If she wants food, I feed her.

If she wants sex, I find a way.

Smoking is a given.

I took away alcohol, and I’m still paying for it to this day, both physically and mentally.

Tired? I make sure she gets a nap.

If she doesn’t like my friends, she’ll find a way of getting rid of them without me knowing or fully understanding what has happened.

Running off and hiding is her way of getting back at me.

I am her child, her lover, her slave; her everything.

I am completely and utterly at her beck and call.

In essence, she is the Master and Commander of my heart, mind, and soul.

Her name is Id, and she devoured her siblings, Ego and SuperEgo, long before I knew they existed; in fact, they were merely a subtle dream I had in passing as a child.