Tristian Brown has struggled with split personality disorder basically his whole life. It's gotten worse as he's gotten older. Medicine never helped so to better work on himself, his mother wants him to seek help from psychologists.
One by one, psy...
"You trying to meet your maker, darling? Are you running out of time? But time ain't even real, you really need to chill It's all in an illusion, you getting mixed up in the fusion Whatever it is you tryna see, you can sit down and just believe" - Summer Walker
Tristan Brown • Miami, Florida
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"Hello, welcome to Johnson's Office of Special Counsel. How may I help you?" An older woman at the front desk greets my mama and I as we enter the building. I continue scrolling through messages in my phone, letting her do the talking since she's the reason I'm here.
"Hi, we have an appointment with Ms. Johnson. The name is Brown."
"No problem, Ms. Johnson should be out to get you shortly."
"Thank you." Ma gives her a polite closed-mouth smile and we both take a seat in the corner.
I immediately slouch down with a frown on my face. I already know how this shit is about to go and I could careless about being here. It's the same cycle, over and over. I honestly only keep doing this to make my dukes happy. She tagged along because she knows I'll end up lying and telling her I would be at a therapy session when I'm really at home having a smoke session.
I could be making money or something right now. I have my own restaurant here in Miami and I'm working on getting one out in LA. Growing up, I was a bad kid. Always fighting, stealing and in a local gang. In high school, I got into dealing. It started out as weed then moved up to big money like heroine and coke. I started making thousands and ending up cashing out on a restaurant. I like food so why not. Now all the dirty money is clean and it feels good to not have to worry about pigs on my ass. I definitely would go crazy in prison.
"Tristan, this is why you can't keep a psychologist. You always have a damn mug on your face."
I can't help it, I have a natural mean mug. I'm not a nice or approachable person. I don't like people, I don't like feelings, I don't like any of that sappy shit. I'm very secluded and to myself, besides my few family and friends but I barely make time for them.
I really don't like getting involved with people because of my disorder. It's another person inside of me..... a demon really and when that side of me comes out, shit gets reckless. Breezy comes out when he wants, mostly at night or when I'm mad. Growing up, my mom always told me my split personality "makes me special" and it's "gods gift" but this shit isn't a gift it's a curse.
I was diagnosed when I was ten and I'm damn near thirty now. It's gotten worse as I've grown up. It started out as little voices telling me to do random things like skip school or rob a store. Then it got to the point where I was killing little cats on the street, breaking each and everyone of their bones. It's like I couldn't control myself and I'd have to do whatever the voice in my head tells me. I turn into a whole different person. I would cry all day when it first started because I didn't know what was wrong with me. Now that I'm grown I've learned how to cope with it. I'm not one of those crazy people that just randomly switch up and start talking and acting like somebody else like in the movies. Nah, it's more complex than that.
