My lovely buddy Ruth tagged me to write a letter to my brain. Why not.
What you playing at you dickhead? We’re supposed to be a team, man. It wasn’t enough you did and went all nutty on me was it, ya had to proper go fuck shit up. I had a good thing going on you know, a spanking new job and everything I ever wanted and you just went and ruined it you fucking useless lump of shite.
What the fuck’s wrong with ya? I hate your fucking guts you wanker, I wouldn’t spit on ya if you was on fire. Why can’t ya just be normal for fucks sake? Stop whinging about every fucking thing, am seriously about to lose it mate. Ya start having a proper go about shit that don’t even matter, why do you even do that?
Listen, I know we had a rough patch in the past and I know you did a lot of that stuff to keep me safe. I appreciate that. But that was then and this is now, mate. We gotta move on. All I want is to be healthy again. That’s not a lot to ask is it?
I know I’m stuck with ya so I cut you a deal alrite? I’ll take my meds, go to the docs and do all that, go outside and shit and you just try and chill out a bit. It’s not always a fucking emergency, mate. Calm. The. Fuck. Down.
Ya used to be great. I miss ya mate. I miss us. I know you miss us too. I’m going to do everything to make it right but I can’t do it without ya. Get yourself sorted all rite?