I Am Not Myself These Days: A Memoir

by Josh Kilmer-Purcell

I try to act normal. Unfortunately I can do multiple different impressions of normal, and I can’t figure out the appropriate one for the moment.

I’m dangerously close to simply having to “be myself.”

It makes me wonder, what’s the point of thinking twice anyway? The only possible outcome of double thinking is that you invariably end up negating whatever it was motivating you in the first place. Forcing yourself to think twice about something is just admitting that somehow you are instinctively stupid, and that repetition is the only thing that will save you from yourself.

We both were born looking for a way out of where we’d been stuck on this planet. Even if it was just a temporary reprieve. We were escape artists from day one.

Some people might get obsessed with figuring out how they wound up on the F train in drag, with no bag and only one shoe, but that’s simply not my style. What’s done is done. I’m sure I had my reasons.

once you’ve crawled into what’s commonly thought of as the sordid underbelly of life, you realize it’s all just different versions of normal.

When I was a kid, my brother would go days without talking to me if I’d done something to make him mad. I’d say I was sorry over and over again for whatever it was. Then I’d get pissed and yell at him. Eventually I’d cry. And he wouldn’t

say a word to me until whatever arbitrary time came that he decided he would talk to me again. He wasn’t being mean; it’s just how he handled conflict. We’re polar opposites. When he has a problem, he gives the world the silent treatment. When I have a problem, I give the world a sequined, star-spangled, show-stopping spectacular.

Secrets that reside only in the mind of one person aren’t really secrets. They’re unspoken fears. It takes two to conspire.

And he lets go of the raft because he’s smart enough to know that holding on to someone is not always the same as keeping them close.