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Henry's reply:Erin,
My name is Henry Griffin, but if you were to meet me in public, I would tell you that my name was Damian Griffin. Damian is the name of my identical twin brother. Our situation is very unique and like you, I consider myself to be crazy and possibly even insane. That is one of the main causes for my insomnia. Sleep has been my enemy for two months. It is my constant struggle. Unlike you, my two brothers are aware of my predicament. Nothing passes by them unnoticed in this household. I have never withheld any information from either one. Until now. Neither one of them is aware of my struggle for sanity. I am slowly slipping away from reality and into my fanatical thoughts. These thoughts plague me day and night. They have become my curse. I have never revealed this information to anyone. For some reason I feel the need to express my thoughts and feelings to someone outside of my home. I do not expect you to understand my obsessive ideas or my lunacy. I understand your spiral away from reality. Perhaps we are not that different after all.
I know that there is something wrong with me. Something wrong with my thought pattern. I find myself constantly obsessing over the idea that the human nature is inherently evil. That every human being is born with an inescapable evil nature. I believe that every human, under dire circumstances, is truly twisted and evil. That they will do whatever it takes to ensure their survival in this sick and demented world.
The reason I am typing this email is because last night I found myself searching for something, anything, that would assist me in keeping a hold on reality. I happened upon the Nightwalkers.com website and began to read in desperation in hopes of discovering answers that would solve my problems. I was discouraged when I found nothing of any use. When I read your words of anguish and distress about nobody understanding you, I found I could relate. I assume I had hoped to find someone who I could relate to. Someone who would understand my mental struggles. Someone who could help me find a hold on reality.
I suppose I should tell you a little more about myself before signing off. I am 32 years old and I have two brothers. We were quadruplets but our fourth brother died shortly after childbirth. I am single and live in the same apartment as my brothers. Damian and I share a close relationship with one another. Our secret is the fact that we live the same life outside of our apartment. We both pose as Damian Ray Griffin and we never leave the house at the same time. One of us is constantly watching over our brother, Peter. He was conjoined with Thomas at birth and a surgery was done to separate the two. Thomas died shortly after and Peter was scarred for life. He suffers from a Bipolar Disorder and depression. He occasionally has suicidal tendencies and tends to be a threat to others outside our home.
I enjoy listening to music by Marilyn Manson and Deathstars. I enjoy reading various books on Philosophy and National Geographic is my favorite magazine. I am constantly writing in my journal as it is my hobby. I also write poetry and sketch. My works normally feature darkness and some may consider them to be depressing.
I am an English teacher at a local high school. Damian and I share the role. Whichever one goes to work to teach, the other gets saddled with the job of marking papers. I can only wonder what the Principal at the school would say when he discovered that his English teacher was on the verge of insanity. Damian is content to teach and so I am normally the one who stays home and marks papers. My life is that of a recluse’s. I am a loner by nature and I am therefore content to stay within the four walls of my home. Socializing has never appealed to me. I prefer to be alone. My main problem is that the long amounts of time I spend alone make me an open target for obsessive thoughts. These thoughts are increasing in intensity. I fear that life as I know it will never be the same unless I am able to gain control over my thought problem. Have you ever known anyone who had a constant struggle with themselves? Someone who was their own worst enemy? Well, you do now. I may be the most insane person you have ever met. And the sad thing is that my brother is of worse mental condition than even I. I am the one who keeps him in check with reality. But what happens when I lose my own mind? Will Damian be able to keep control over the both of us? I fear if I slip away into insanity, then there is no hope for Peter. I am in dire need of assistance but I cannot bring myself to tell anyone. Anyone but you. Why is it that I am able to completely open up to a complete stranger? Perhaps I will never understand.
Henry
Dear Henry,Reading over your email last night, I feel like we've bonded in a way no one will be able to understand. For one, I don't see our fall from sanity that different. Perhaps my own feelings aren't as strong as your's but we both feel like loners, trapped in our own worlds. THe only difference is that you don't have to pretend that everything's fine around your brothers, for myself, every day is a facade that only becomes harder to play with each passing minute. I could tell my mother, my husband, but I know they wouldn't understand. I may be crazy. I can say it here in an email to someone like you Henry who will understand these feelings of blackness and depression. Who understands how it is like falling from a ledge, holding on with your hands, then your fingers, till you're just dangling, afraid to look down, unsure in your mind what waits below in the gloom. I wonder if I let go, would it really be as horrible as everyone says?
If you were to met me on a street corner, you'd probably judge me by outwards appearance, the silly, pampered society wife with her gold platinum credit card and a diamond on her finger. But that's just a role I play...I'm so glad that I can tell someone (even a complete stranger) how I really feel, cause the chances of us actually meeting is very slim. I don't have to pretend on here, to you like I have to do for every else to mask my lunacy.
Speaking of lunacy, it feels like I'm two different people. Sometimes when I'm just staring out my window at the grey horizon of the city, it's like I'm dreaming, and I'm looking at myself in the form of someone else. What's stranger, is that my other 'form' is a young teenage girl! It's not even a replica of me at that age, fifteen or fourteen. It's someone completely different, but when I'm looking through her eyes, I see not myself staring at the window, but someone I don't know. I think like this girl and I don't even know her.
It can't be a dream though, cause I'm always awake.
This may sound crazy! Okay, it IS crazy. But what can I say. It's not like I can tell Kim. He's already beginning to notice my methodical nocturnal ways and is worried. If I told him I was seeing things, having out of body experiences, he'd lock me up for sure.
Well, I'm not sure if he'd lock my up, but I'd have to see a head doctor and those people have always annoyed them, acting like they understand what I'm feeling, labelling it some depression or disease, all meaningless names they've only heard about in a textbook. They don't really KNOW how it is to feel like this.
But you do Henry, maybe that's why I have this strange feeling, that somehow...we're not really strangers.
Erin
Erin,Our understanding of one another has sparked a glimmer of hope deep inside of my soul. Perhaps I have finally found someone who understands me and shares some of the same problems as I. Who knew that struggling for sanity could bring two people close together? I have never felt the need to search for someone to understand me until now. Damian has always understood me. But my struggle for sanity is something he could never truly understand. He is the most normal one out of the three of us. He wouldn’t understand that I am trapped in a nightmare where I cannot wake up because I am not dreaming. He wouldn’t understand my obsessive thoughts concerning the evil human nature. I want to spare him of the horrors that consume my mind. I want him to be free to live as normal life as possible.
I am now relieved to have found someone whose life is plagued with the same burden as mine. I am relieved to know that I am not the only who is struggling to free myself from my world of insanity. I am determined to fight this obsession with every ounce of strength I can muster. I am not going to fall into this pit of lunacy without a fight. Peter’s very life depends on my sanity. I can understand the mental and emotional issues that have scarred him. I can understand his personal struggle with violent thoughts. But how can I help him if I sink into insanity myself? I will have accomplished nothing if I give in to my thoughts. My years of assisting and mentoring Peter will have only been in vain if I give into the same problem I have been helping him combat.
I can only imagine how challenging it must be for you to pretend to be normal around the people you should be able to trust most. I live a lie outside of my home, but I am free to express myself freely within the comforts of my own home. But I have decided to keep my struggle for sanity a secret. The pressure I would receive from Damian and Peter would be enough to push me over the edge. I therefore force myself to act as normally as possible within my home. I have succeeded in keeping my secret to myself for this long. Hopefully it will remain a secret until I have either conquered it or succumbed to its evil hold on me.
If we were to meet in person we might not even recognize one another at first. I do not come across to others as the dark and depressed loner. I am able to play the role of the sociable high school teacher very well. If my life were a movie, I would win an Oscar for the Best Leading Actor. I can wear a stone mask that veils my true feelings and intentions. I can come across as chipper and entertaining even while I am struggling with pessimistic thoughts. Only Damian and Peter can read me like a book. But even they can’t truly understand what I am feeling. I am not a person who easily judges others based upon their outward appearance. I can see through the games they play. I recognize the depressed and heartbroken people beneath the masks they wear in public. A smile does not easily mask the pain and fear in one’s eyes. A tense voice can be detected within a chipper tone. If we were to meet in person, I may be able to recognize the fact that you are hiding something behind your perfect smile and gold platinum credit card. After all, we are not that different.
In a way, I understand what you mean when you say that you feel like you are two different people. I pretend to be Damian outside of my home and I sometimes get so caught up in the role that I begin to feel like I actually am him. But then I snap back to reality and become the dark and pessimistic loner again. I do not believe myself to be a schizophrenic nor do I have multiple personality disorder although the thoughts have crossed my mind on more than one occasion. I know for a fact that Damian and I are two separate people. There are several circumstances that prove that Damian and I are two completely different people. The same goes for Peter and I, and Damian and Peter. Perhaps I do suffer from some mental disorder and I have failed to recognize it.
I do understand how it is to feel the way you do, Erin. We are both unsure of what it is that is causing us these problems. We both believe ourselves to be crazy and on the verge of insanity. We are both unsure of whether we are currently suffering from a mental illness. But the one thing we can both be sure of, is the fact that we are not going through this journey alone. I understand you, Erin. I truly do. And I hope you understand me as well. It is our similarities, Erin, that cause us to feel this deep connection, like we know each other even while we’ve never met before. We are not strangers. Circumstances have made us similar. Our problems have shaped us into two people who are very much alike.
Henry
Dear Henry,I'm glad that I don't have to keep this all bottled up inside anymore. It's a small start to maybe breaking free from this battle for my sanity. But then there are the times, when I wonder if it's actually worth fighting for. At least when I'm having these thoughts and this struggle, I feel like there's something, a reason maybe why I keep having these experiences, why I can't sleep. Maybe something deep inside me is trying to be released or maybe it's some supernatural force that's prompting me to do something. I don't know. Does that make any sense?
I'm so confused, and even though I hold on for normalcy with everything I've got, the battle is ending. I don't know if I can fight in any longer. Would it be easier to cave in and just let go? I understand your struggle and I'm glad you understand mine, but you sound like you are a braver and stronger fighter than I am. You are fighting to protect your brothers and that is very honourable. I don't think you are as mad or as strange as people may judge you to be. I am sure that underneath this emotional imbalance, you are a very beautiful person.
I am sure that is it always darkest before the dawn, but the dawn seems so far away, especially when you can't escape with sleep. I can escape in other ways, but it is not the same.
You know, I have always wanted some siblings. I am an only child and it seems that my parents target me because of this. I have to be perfect, fulfill their every expectation. My mother is happy that I married someone who is rich and successful and who can 'take' care of me, but I am not a child. I don't want to be mollified with money and expensive presents. I just want to be understood and accepted whether I am really crazy or not. Why should I change if this is the way I am supposed to be? I think what I'm really afraid of is letting everyone down, shaming them. I have always been a people pleaser so it's difficult for me to go out on a limb and follow my heart or do what I believe is the right thing to do.
I am glad you are my friend, and that you feel the same kind of bond I feel with you. These emails are my remaining thread with my sanity. If I had to keep it all inside any longer, I may just burst.
Kim has a big community event coming up and he wants me to play hostess. I don't know if I can do it. I am so tired of smiling and offering niceties and being a big lying hypocrite. I am sure people will see right through me and Kim's reputation will suffer because of it. I do love Kim, in a way. I just want something more than being the charade he needs to up his status in the firm. I can imagine myself throwing a terrible fit from the pressure of it and doing something stupid, like embarrassing everyone or blundering through the whole evening.
What I really want to do is jump on the table and yell. I just want to scream! I'm a human, I have feelings! I can't just be the wallflower, the pretty face. They say that behind every good man, is a good woman. I wonder what people would see behind KIm. They'd see me, that's what, only they wouldn't see me as good. They'd see my slipping farther and farther away, so the my face would be nothing but shadows. They would be looking at a stranger, some grotesque image of insanity.
Whats worse is...I don't even know who I am anymore.
I've been swallowed and eaten by something...something that's hidden in the dark.
Maybe that's why I don't sleep.
Erin
Erin,“Finding common ground with another person offers a feeling of satisfaction. Satisfaction in knowing you are not the only one out there struggling under a weight of troubles. Once you are able to make a connection with someone you begin to feel the freedom to express yourself. You begin to feel as though you can confide in them the dark secrets of your heart. Opening your soul to them. Freeing your heart and mind of the shadowy thoughts that threaten to tear you apart.
The thoughts and feeling that plague you both day and night succeed in their mission to slowly destroy your sanity. As the blackness rips and tears at the small amount of sanity you have left, you cannot help but wonder, why? Why you? What is the deeper meaning behind the fight for your sanity? Is it the forces of nature struggling to convey a message to you? Is it a supernatural force that has selected you as the person they reveal their secrets to? As these thoughts race across your mind, battling for control over you, you cannot help but wonder whether you or they will come out triumphant. Should you let nature run its course and give into insanity? Or is your sanity worth fighting for? Which one offers the best outcome for you? Is death the only escape? Or is your life worth the grisly fight? For when the fight is over, you are left to pick up the scattered remains of your soul. Finding that you will never be whole again.”
This piece of writing is one I composed yesterday evening after I had finished marking English papers. Reading your last email has given me a better glimpse into who you are and what you are going through. The excerpt from my journal was written for you. I sat for an entire hour in contemplation of your situation. I understand your current location. Teetering on edge of sanity. Peering over the edge and wondering if it would be easier to fall into the darkness or if it is worth hanging on. Only you can know what is best for you. If you feel as though you have no more strength left to hang on then you will find it easier to cave in. But if you feel your life and sanity is worth fighting for than you will fight with everything you have.
I may have a reason to fight for my sanity, but it isn’t always enough to convince me to hold on. When the darkness swoops in to consume me, I am tempted to simply give in. I appreciate the fact that you see my situation as honorable. My brothers are the only people I have ever truly cared about. To me they are the only things in life worth fighting for. But my thought pattern is beginning to twist even that theory. I now find myself writing journals about the destructive human nature and using Peter as an example. His hobbies consist of creating mutilated figures out of black clay and painting horrifying pictures. My mind is beginning to convince me that he is the epitome of evil. While I know that this is not the case, I end up battling against that frame of mind. This struggle for sanity may result in tearing apart the only two relationships I have. If I lose Damian and Peter than I have nothing left to fight for. My life will be pointless.
Playing the role of someone entirely different from yourself has proven to have negative effects on a person. One can only pretend for so long before glimpses of who they truly are begin to wear through the mask. I understand that you want to declare to the world who you truly are and reveal that you are not the person they believe you to be. I personally do not struggle with that. I am content to let my true identity remain a secret from the outside world. But I can understand your struggle. There are times when I find myself wondering who I really am. Playing the role of someone else confuses the mind until a person wonders about their true identity. I have adapted to playing the role of two people and for me it’s a second nature to switch between the roles of Damian and myself. However my mind has become confused over the matter on more than one occasion.
I know who I am. I am the pessimistic loner who enjoys writing and sketching. I am the person who dwells in my dark thoughts. I am the one who struggles for my sanity. The smiling, cheerful, and sociable English teacher is Damian. It is only a matter of time before my mind will no longer permit me to pretend. And life as I know it will cease to continue.
Henry
Dear Henry,I'm flattered that you would use my predicament as a main focus for a journal entry, but I am also a little terrified at the prospect of what is written there. Your words comforted and controlled my thoughts minutes after I read them, they split me in two till I am not sure what I am, or where my life has been destined to led. Your empathy for me is heartwarming, and I appreciate the great lengths you take to write back to me and console my worst fears.
You are a beautiful writer.
Today, after another restless night, I thought perhaps I could destiny into my own hands and carve a real place for me in the world. I thought I could fight. I really did, but there in the bathroom mirror stood a face I didn't recognize. It was a young face, naive and innocent as I had once been, but it was not me. I turned and thought maybe a stranger had come up behind me, but the figure in the mirror moved as well. And when I reached out and touched the glass, it shattered under my palm and blood gathered in the porcelain sink like someone's wrists had been slit. It scared me so bad I started to scream! Such a horrible vision and yet when Kim came running, it vanishes back to the way it had been, marble black and white tiles, the pristine white of the walls and sink, the navy clothes hanging on the curtain rod. How could that be?
I'm losing my grip. I thought I could save myself Henry, but I can't. My sleepless nights are becoming longer and filled with horrible hallucinations of death and an alternate world that only I can see.
I once smirked at the thought of getting any kind of professional help, but now in my fear I am unsure? Should I confide to someone, like Kim to help me? But I am so afraid. I wake from a sleep that is not sleep and my skin is soaked with sweat but I am so cold, shaking with fear that explodes like a hand grenade in all corners of my mind.
Is this lunacy?
Erin
Erin,I find peace of mind in mentoring and assisting other people who are struggling with certain issues. When I am able to connect with a person and their situation I become absorbed with assisting them in finding answers and solutions. I tend to delve into their problems in search of deeper meanings. It is my obsession to search for satisfying answers for the questions in life. And that is where my struggle for sanity comes into play. My pessimistic nature drives me to search for answers in the darkness and, the only conclusions I can draw at this time, point to the fact that the human nature is inherently evil.
I honestly want to assist you in your search for answers, Erin. But you must understand that the conclusions I draw may be dark and evil. Please know that I am struggling to overcome these disturbing and twisted thoughts. I will do my best to refrain from sending you emails that reflect my lunacy. It is out of good intentions that I attempt to assist you. But evil can come out of good intentions.
I appreciate the compliments you have given me concerning my writing. Writing has been a passion of mine ever since I was a child. It is my personal way of expressing my thoughts and feelings. Damian expresses himself through his words and actions. Peter expresses himself through his sculptures and paintings.
It seems that each time one is about to make a positive break through the stone walls of darkness that have been built up around their soul, something inflicts fear and terror within them. This causes them to shrink back into their shadowy prison and cease fighting. Giving up on the idea of ever breaking free. It is as though there is a force that constantly inflicts fear upon people to prove that its control over them. But is it a supernatural force that causes this? If not, then what? And why does it select some people to constantly strike down and not others? Is there something about us that makes us prone to attacks? Are we of a submissive nature? Is it our passive and pliable nature that marks us as open targets to these attacks?
Distractions are what I use as a defense against the thoughts that hound me both day and night. Yesterday I experimented with smoking cigarettes in an attempt to find something to ease my troubled nerves. Much to my dismay, they did little to relieve me of my thoughts. During my restlessness during the night I went out and bought a case of beer. I spent the rest of the night downing can after can until I could no longer see straight. The results were satisfying until I began to experience the symptoms of a horrible hangover. Depression weighed heavier than it ever had before. That is the main reason why this email won’t be as well written and as thorough as all my others. I still have a horrible headache but writing eases it. Luckily, today was Damian’s day to go to work and so I have the rest of the day to recover from my actions of stupidity. Hopefully I am back to normal by tomorrow. So far, the alcohol has been the best distraction for me. It numbs my mind and frees me of my thoughts. While I know it isn’t the most sensible action, I do believe that I will try it again if my thoughts become unbearable. I may continue this until I can find a different means of distraction.
I would not advise you or anyone else to follow my example. The alcohol numbs the mind but the depression that follows is nearly as unbearable as the thoughts themselves. This distraction only masks my thoughts for a short period of time. I need a constant distraction. But where can I find something that will keep me occupied during the day and night? I live on a tight budget and cannot afford (financially and mentally) to get drunk every single night. I know that there is a more sensible solution out there. But my thoughts are making it hard for me to stay focused and think clearly. I’m slowly slipping away, Erin. And the sad thing is, there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I am in desperate need of help.
Henry
Mod
Haha, it's almost like Henry scared Erin away with that last email. He was getting kind of creepy. But he went through a good streak after that...
Mod
No problem, I created a new friend for Henry. Her name is Anna.
Wow, these are amazing guys! I wasn't entirely sure what you meant Memory when you talked about character emails, but what a wonderful idea! Henry sounds like a deep character. He's obviously dark, but also likeable. He definitely gets a sympathetic reaction from the reader.
Wow, I'm glad you enjoyed reading about Henry and Erin. Henry certainly is a deep and dark character. I had so much fun writing these emails. At first I was doing my best to make him sound realistic. But near the end he began taking on his own voice and personality. And I'm very glad he gets a sympathetic reaction from the readers:)
You know, you wouldn't even have to improve on these to tell a story. There are lots of books out there that are told through letters or journal entries. These 'emails' could stand on their own as a novel.
Hey_jude wrote: "I love Henry! He's by far the best character you've created Memory:)"HAHA! "I love henry" What romance...XD
This dialouge is seems realistic and down to earth. hmm... I enjoy reading these! Would love to see a twist to Henry's life though.
Mod
Thanks again, Hey_jude! It is hard to create something more than just the average cliche. And for this particular story, I was looking for something other than the good guy/bad guy thing. I was thinking about what it would be like to have the good and bad all rolled into one person. Henry's struggle isn't against another person. The battle takes place within his mind. And, Thelastencore, I was wondering what kind of twist you'd like to see in Henry's life? I'm open to suggestions:)
Anastasia wrote: "You know, you wouldn't even have to improve on these to tell a story. There are lots of books out there that are told through letters or journal entries. These 'emails' could stand on their own as ..."Thanks for that idea! It had crossed my mind once before about just telling the story through the emails. But I would probably need to create another character for Henry to 'email'. I also have some journal entries written by Henry.
Mod
Don't feel bad about it, I haven't written anymore on Henry since the last email I sent you. Well, besides a couple of sentences in his journals. But besides that, I've been really busy lately and haven't taken much time to work on my stories. I am currently making an effort to work on my writing more often though.
I guess I should tell you something about myself, other than Hi, my name is Erin. I feel like I'm at an alcoholic's anonymous meeting or something, starting out that way. So maybe I'll start another way, and hopefully you can pick out the little details of my life from here.
First of all I'm crazy. That's why I can't sleep tonight.
It's nothing new. I haven't slept in two months, or is it three? I can't remember.
I used to think there was something wrong with me. I'd be so tired in the early stages. I could feel my poor deprived body craving for sleep, but my eyes stayed open, alert, as though warding off something that would attack as soon as my eyelids fell.
My mother phoned yesterday after our weekly brunch.
“You aren't sleeping are you?” she said. I honestly didn't think she would notice. My weariness has worn off, I'm more alert now in the mornings. You can't even see the dark circles under my eyes. I still have to apply makeup, but only I know that. Not even Kim (my husband) notices. But then again, he's so busy.
“I've been a little restless,” I began, fending off any lectures that were sure to follow.
“You know there are groups out there to help,” she said. With my mother, anything amiss, even if it's a small case of insomnia is urgent enough to warrant a visit to a shrink. She believes in medicating all problems away.
And I guess her advice is one of the reasons I'm here typing this email. I don't like chat rooms, but surfing the web last night, I spotted a group that was called NightWalkers.com. It's a glorified shrine for insomniacs like myself, a place of nightly socializing, a way to support our nocturnal habits that have everyone else scratching their heads at. You know the kind of people I'm talking about, those same people who used to make me feel like it was wrong? People like my mother...like my husband.
But it is? If I prefer the night to the day, what does it matter? That's actually what one of the woman wrote on the website. I guess it stuck in my head, that's why I'm telling you now.
It's not that I really want to stay awake, it's just I can't. Honest to goodness, can't. Anyway, I chose you, because I honestly didn't knew who else to talk to. I can't talk to my family, they wouldn't understand. They say they understand but I've always been a people reader, in their eyes, they don't understand at all.
Being married to a successful lawyer should have some perks, but I can't enjoy any of them.
Before I was married, I used to aspire. I wanted to be one of those collage people who wore the collage mantra on their shirts, who spent their afternoons locked away in the cavernous library of some neglected campus. Yet, none of that happened. Some times, I walk by the collage, walk by the classrooms and wonder if I could still do it.
Now I spend my time, spending all the money that Kim throws at me, spending time with my only companion, the visa card. I used to wish for money when we didn't have any, now I see it for what it really is, cold unfeeling lumps of paper that only serve as a poor replacement for the life I could have had.
Should have had.
And I find with each day, each night, being repeatedly and methodically swallowed up in the dark, I'm losing my grip of reality.
Told you I was crazy,
Erin