My welcome Intruder.

I read a book a couple of years ago called The Intruders, by Michael Marshall. Without giving too much of the plot away, it's about the idea that maybe we're not entirely alone in our psyches, whether metaphorically or otherwise.

I joked afterwards that my Intruder was a fat woman who ate too much cake and hated the treadmill. This isn't true. That's just a ghost of an unhappy kid I once was. The adult me has never even been that fond of cake. My Intruder hates it.

Before you all start ringing for the crazy van, let me explain. We ALL have an Intruder. Yes, even you. The Intruder is the little voice at the back of your head. You know the one? Mainly they just sit there quietly letting you get on with things, but every once in a while they want to take the reins. And that's what 'She' is doing now.

Let me explain about my Intruder. Firstly, she really doesn't take any shit. She can spot a lie or a liar a mile away, and will sit inside my head with an eyebrow raised saying, 'Really? REALLY??' when I pretend there's a good reason someone's done something sneaky or bad other than perhaps they're just not very nice. I'm the queen of the second-chance. She is on the inside, shaking her head and saying, 'They're just a TWAT. Move on..'

Me - I make excuses for people. I like to give people an 'out'. She, on the other hand doesn't even make excuses for us. When I fuck up, she's the first there with the 'Well, what the hell did you expect? Reap what you sow.'

I like people and like to be liked. I worry about people liking me and if I'm too loud, too attention-seeking, too much 'too' all round. She really doesn't care what people think - not in that sense. She's happy just to be her. She's comfortable in her own skin.

I write the serious blogs. She makes people laugh in the pub after too much wine.

Me - I want to find true love and live happily ever after. I'm a secret romantic. She, however, loves the freedom of being on her own and tells me 'We all die alone anyway, and how many marriages do you know that actually work??' She lives by her own moral code - she'll do what she wants, with who she wants, when she wants. It's me that lies in bed at night sleepless thinking 'Why did I do that? What kind of person am I?' while she's crashed out at the back of my head, probably with a grin on her face.

She walks different to me. That's how I knew she was taking charge for a while. About a month ago I noticed I was swaggering more. That's her not me. When I say she's in charge, let's not get this entirely out of context. I'm still here and I have to flex some control. She likes to smoke. A lot. We've had words about that. She likes to party and we've had to have words about that too. There is some stuff we really are too old for, and as much as she may not like that, she seems to have agreed.

Different as she is to me, we are a team. We're on the same side. Shit, we are the same side. When I had to get up early in the mornings to write before work, it was her made me do it with a brutal, 'life is short. Get on with it. We dontt have all that much time for all the stuff we want to do.'

She gets me on the treadmill with a 'You want to be the fat kid again? You're 37. Time to work at it a bit.'

I have a sneaky suspicion it was her that quit Twitter behind my back.

It's been a good year for me and She workwise. I do the writing - she hasn't got the patience for that - but she's always the one with the business head, looking around for the opportunities, seeing where we are now, where we need to go next and she's doing us proud. She is ruthless in all things. I'm scared of everything.

And when I'm down and sad and hurt, she's the one that looks in the mirror and right into the core of us and says, 'you know what? Fuck 'em. We're doing okay.'

It's been a funny old year of ups and downs. I've concentrated on the downs too much. She doesn't do that and she's right. Those things will fade and be forgotten. Learn from them and move on. One day we will look back and laugh, if we even remember. The things we've achieved however, and the new friends we've made will be there for a long time. Celebrate them. Celebrate us.

So, complete cow that she can sometimes be, I'm handing over to her for now. She's got us covered. She's raring to go. There's a world out there and she wants to conquer it.

So here I am taking the mental back seat. It's comfy back here. I'm settling in. It'll do for now...until I feel the need for some 'Me' time.

Hope you're all well and you and and your Intruders have got the world where you want it,

Love, me. Or maybe she. Can you tell the difference? ;-)