To My Dark Shadow

To the darkest shadow I know,

The shadow you cast over my life, is often too transparent, too slight for the eyes to see. The epitome of sleight of hand or an optical illusion. Hallucination—You'd surely have me believe that's all you were. Without a tangible form I could point to, trying to describe you would make me look crazy. A figment of my imagination. Something I can only ever use as an excuse when I get things wrong. A scapegoat, you might say in all your melodramatic monologues.

This is a letter I should have written a long time ago.

As the frost starts to make its appearance and the temperature drops dramatically towards 0 and below. As I feel a cold chill through my body—that refreshing cold chill, though, that comes. As the nights become longer and we fight to make the most of the daylight hours—as fleetingly short as they are. The coldness I feel brings you to the forefront of my mind. I guess, too, the fact that the end of the year and the start of another. A time of reflection and contemplation. Reflection and contemplation about what has happened before and what could happen in the future.

As I write this, you're fast asleep, hibernating. You never really go away, do you? That would be too convenient. Instead, you hang out in the background, quiet enough that you're undetectable. But I got wise to your machinations. At least, a lot of them. Even if you're not actively creating havoc in my life, I know you're there, waiting for the next opportunity.

It may seem strange to write a letter of gratitude, to you. The one person/being who caused me more pain than anyone. Who led me down the darkest of paths. If it wasn't for me taking responsibility for my actions, mistakes and missteps, we know the blame falls largely on you.

It's easier to write this knowing you're hibernating, hiding or whatever you may be doing, even if I feel goosebumps on my skin and a sharp cold shiver down my spine.

You've never been externally violent or abusive. More insidious, creatively deceptive and passive-aggressive. Always knew how to push my buttons.

Cruel in a more considered way. Never pushing me to lash out with my fists or objects. Words cut deeper than knives, after all. The pen is mightier than the sword. That's what you taught me.

Whenever it came to holding my hands up and saying sorry. For the things I... we had done, you were never there. Whenever I tried to explain the motivations behind my actions, even I didn't feel my words had the gravitas or justification I thought they did. That was your doing too. Wasn't it? I know it now.

Not that because of you I coasted through life without doing anything physically, tangibly wicked. You just made it easier.

I suppose I should marvel at just how bespoke your approach towards me has always been. That's what comes from having a front seat and direct access to all my hopes, dreams, thoughts, feelings, fears, joys, loves, regrets and hates for almost 45 years—all that pain and suffering at your shadowy fingertips.

There were many years you played me as a fiddle to the tune of your own desires. When it has been almost impossible to fight back. So many times, I've fallen for your tricks and persuasions. Too often, I find myself down a path I never expected, with you laughing maniacally. When I'm drowning and suffocating in the lies, I've had to use. To find a way out of what you've, in part at the very least, caused me to do. The explanations and apologies I've had to issue when I've had some measure of clarity.

I don't really remember when you darkened my life with your unwanted presence, but you've been there from a very young age.

So, why would I want to show you gratitude?

Because you've been helpful, in your own sadistic and self-serving way.

The funny thing about how you've worked your dark magic on my life and cast your vindictive, selfish spells upon my existence is you've helped me learn about you. Perhaps I wasn't quite aware of you in my earlier years.

Once I reached my teenage years and early adulthood, that's when I started collating notes and recordings about how you wield your power over me. I've not always been effective at defeating you, but, with each battle for my willpower, I've come away with more ammunition, additional tools and weapons for my arsenal of defence.

You have used subtle misleading interpretations of things happening in my life to devastating effect. Like the time when you colluded with my depression to make it seem as if my marriage was over. So, I started thinking, "What the hell" and made the wrong choices. Yes, you should be proud of yourself.

Even when you've won and I've found myself in the gutter of my own creation. When I'm at rock bottom, or geographically close to that point, I've been able to take stock and learn.

Each time your schemes are successful, I'm a little bit wiser and better equipped to pull myself up and fight harder, smarter next time.

That's why I want to thank you. For using the same techniques and motivators each time, for relying on the same dirty tactics, suggestive thoughts and coercive tools. Living with your darkened shadow and your malicious intent over the years has made me more resilient. Against not just your internal attacks on my psyche and self-esteem, but also yours and other's external attacks on my life.

So, thank you, my dark shadow.

I may never fully rid myself of you and accept you as a part of me. But that doesn't mean I'll ever make it easier for you to take the reins again.

Regards,

Paul