Ferry across the Mersey

I picked up I.F. somewhere along the way. At first his influence affected me in minor ways. Gradually he gained more clout. Now I listen to him more and more and regret my responses.

Then G. joins the party with her incessant accusatory tone, railing my every move. I should ignore her but she makes that impossible. She shrieks her message with grating voice.

Then like an alcoholic who swears off the booze, the pressure begins to mount.  Soon I freeze in place, the solution hidden behind a wall of  recriminations.

I do not like my pals. When they begin to stir, I begin to panic. The process begins anew.

For most, this time of year represents joy. I just want to roll into a ball and sleep through it all. Selfish? Yes. The rationale for G. to harp.

An argument ensues almost every time; I lose most of them. Who am I?

Later, Dude.