There's a beast that lives inside of me. I call it Simon. I'm not sure if it's male or female or neither, but I call it that for convenience. When Simon gets hungry he lets me know, but there's rarely much I can do about it. I used to go insane trying to feed him when he was at his worst. I would greatly increase my risk tolerance for embarrassment (quite amazing for me) and at the same time my judgment would worsen or become disregarded. Unfortunately my early efforts to forcefully feed him received some positive reinforcement. That might be in part to blame for the continued folly of trying to serve his will. This approach went downhill quite fast and I learned from my mistakes. I haven't done anything I regret as an effort to feed Simon in a fair amount of time now-- perhaps 9 months. If I can feed him in ways I know I wont regret in the future well that's fine. What's important is that I am in charge, not him. I liken Simon to a baby who throws ridiculous tantrums. He sleeps most of the time, but occasionally awakes voracious. Even when he's asleep I can feel his nightmares sometimes. There's nothing I can do about this beast living between my chest and stomach, but I do recognize he is not me. He is the id, the pathetic guardian of self importance, the knight of the libido. He is a silly infant devoid of wisdom.
