I never really know how to start these blogs... there's usually so much to write, and I'm stuck on where to start. I've got a lot of brain debris floating around in my thoughts right now, so... yeah. This'll have to do.
I had a realisation today. An epiphany, I suppose. Funny, how those things always tend to happen when I least expect them. Today, I had a big realisation about the demonic part of my identity, while walking down the stairs on the way to the toilet. So deeply poetic and spiritual.
But the thing is, I really don't know how to explain any of what I figured out, since I've only ever gave a very vague outline of what my demonic kintype even is, and none of it makes sense outside of context.
However, at the same time, I don't really feel comfortable explaining it. I already feel kind of ridiculous, with my three kintypes and being a polymorph on top of that... and I'd rather not talk at all, than ramble on for hours about my kintype and sound like a delusional weirdo. Plus, the one time I tried to explain what my demonic kintype is, I ended up with five whole paragraphs just as an introduction, and those took me two hours to write (it's so damn hard finding the right words for these things). If I tried to tell everything I know about it, it would end up as a literal essay.
It's a little scary, because... well, from a purely logical, rational perspective, I know my identity is impossible, just through the sheer unlikeliness of it. What's the chance that some impossibly ancient, powerful entity somehow ends up incarnated as a small fat person sat at a computer at least half the hours of the day, who's too mentally ill to even leave the house? It's silly. But, at the same time, I do feel like that's what I am, in every fibre of my being. As much as I'd choose otherwise, if that were an option. Plus, there's the memories and mental shifts and the fact that when I tried to suppress this part of my identity, my entire mind fractured into a bunch of tiny little pieces and I ended up with a kind of temporary DID.
So. Both options are unlikely. Great. That's just great.
It all comes down to the same old issue... how am I supposed to find any peace inside this mess? I don't want either option to be true. I don't want to be the freaky immortal eldritch abomination thing, but I also don't want to be the person so mentally screwed that they managed to conjure up memories of being some formless monster sat on an empty planet for a billion years, and then convinced themself that those memories were real.
When I came to that realisation about my identity, earlier today? It felt nice, it felt right. Like things in that vein should feel. It was the same kind of fuzzy feeling I got when I stumbled onto a picture of a tundra wolf for the first time. But after a few hours to mull it over... it's lost its magic. Because the issue isn't about understanding myself anymore, and it hasn't been for a long time. It's about accepting myself, and that's something I just don't know how to do.
I wish I knew a way to come to terms with all this.
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