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Home, 2010 (countdown to final exams: less than a year) Our front door had just closed behind the last party guests, and I almost jumped up the stairs to level 1, wondering about how I would enjoy the last hours of my birthday in peace. Music... A silver shimmer in the dust. An oval object. Both sides showing a picture of Archangel Michael, one of them framed by the following prayer: "St. Michael pray for us." Still with the pendant in hand, I sprinted to the living- room where my parents had made themselves comfortable in front of the TV. "Mom! Dad!" None of them could imagine where the accessory was from. And soon, we agreed on that somebody would have noticed if it had been a guest's. The search for its owner came to naught; nobody was missing it either. With Mom's and my "father's" permission, I kept it. Wearing it under my shirt/ pullover felt so... right. So strange at the same time. In their prayers, Protestants talk directly to God. They can pray everywhere. And if not with the congregation during service then with a popular Christian/ (arch-) angel in the free time. Ha! Owning portraits/ pictures of our brothers and sisters are not an issue as long as they or those they depict are not worshipped. Objects won't answer prayers, grant any wishes or help by doing magic. But the pendant was a sign that I was not alone. Protected. And loved.

Home, 2010 (countdown to final exams: less than 1 year) Under the pressure of the present, the future wasn't even in sight. And Doreen Virtue's oracle cards barely more than pieces of art. If I was to pick one deck as my personal favorite, I'd cough and excuse myself with my full schedule that would punish "laziness" severely. My brutal honest opinion? Them having been drawn by many artists make it way easier to "build your own oracle out of the cards". 3 - 4 styles in one set of 44... And why the rant? Because Hark's book made me give divination a 2nd look. Against my will. Since the discussion of Arthur Schnitzler's "Leutnant Gustl", over 1 year had passed, and dream interpretation had become an empty shell. I always loved symbols. Stuffing so many meanings into one short chain of syllables/ lines was like a wonder. *inhales sharply* Short-story. Diary entry. Confession. Slice of life. Mystery. The author's "Angel - Dream" has more than one genre. But suspense/ horror/ thriller?! A face is crystalizing out of an upper corner of the room. The narrator and reader are shocked. A parallel to angels' appearance in the bible. Words of another theologian about "al tirah" (Ancient Hebrew, "Do not fear!") as greeting come to mind: Angels - not only the Angel of Death - are frightening. So frightening that we watch men sinking down onto the knees, and the angel helping them to get up, saying not to be worth to be worshipped. The moment of shock is over; the aura of authority surrounding the angel, remains. It's this power to free from bonds, this energy ("spiritual manager", "low voice in [the] heart") that whispers wise sayings and admonishes to live a responsible life. Something "in the soul [which is not man- made and is a living being on its own]" (C. G. Jung). Similar to what Rose Ausländers has written in her poem "The Angel in You": "They [= the angels] cry about my darkness, and they are happy about my light." A reaction to human feelings that would be missed in the bible. I learnt that analyzing my dreams - which I have been doing since my earliest childhood anyway - wasn't a bad thing per se. But it wasn't a magical ability either.

Hospital, 2011 (after graduation) "Woah! It's like 5 days of my life had been stolen", Mom commented after we having filled her in. If her "accident" was the last thing, she could remember... Again, I saw the tea - pot on the cooktop. How many spoons of sugar had she added to the chamomile tea?! Let her get 10 years older, and we will have to send her to a senior citizens residence! My eyes searched hers. "Mom, something needs to be done. Next time..." Mom interrupted me: "A nurse said, I cheated death." Should her crooked smile cheer me up? Horrible job, Mom. She lowered her voice so that my "father" would not hear. "See, I still got a mission." Yes, but that was the only point, we could agree on. If she only didn't waste her 2nd chance by helping me! I gave my "father" a questioning look. In the car, I was reflecting on the last books, I had read. 3 in one year? That was deflating. 📚 Helmut Hark: Angels on your Way - The message of our spiritual Companions. 📚 Günter Ewald: On the Trail of Near - death Experiences. Is there an immortal Soul? 📚 Todd Burpo/ Lynn Vincent: Heaven is for Real. Then it struck me. Mom and me had never chatted about the psychotherapist's and theologian's "new ways of communicating with angels", but we had ocassional discussions about the mathematian's collected conceptions of death. Many more hours had been dedicated to Colton's story, "by far the most moving and authentic report of a human's journey to heaven and return to the world of the living" in our eyes. Shortly after, Mom checked out of hospital; in the blink of an eye, she recovered. Did archangel Raphael have something to do with it?

Home, 2011 (after graduation) All impressions of the Big Apple were clouded by Mom's hyperglycaemia. If we had stayed home... "Two days later, and she would not have survived." The doctor sighed. "I've never seen a case like this before." And his collegues nodded. Yes, Mom was alive - judging the tensed muscles that fought the straps tying her body to the bed, and the blue and green lines on the monitor to the left. "Mom?" My voice should never reach her. That's what is called "coma", the world between ours and afterlife. On the 3rd/ 4th day in hospital, the struggle against her ties were over. "Water." Her eyes were still half- closed, the gaze unfocused, but with a little help, she brought herself into a sitting position and drank. Suddenly, she tilted her head into my direction. "I know what you want to ask." She shook her head. I paled. Our relationship was more of the us - two - girls - against - the - world - type. Not meaning, I had no secrets; yet, I allowed myself to be a loudmouth around her and hold speeches, Martin Luther himself would be proud of. ("No polemic pamphlet", a teacher of mine wrote under one test and congratulated me on having made her laugh with my comment that the arguments of modern critics of religion were as enjoyable as cold coffee. They never got off their high horses, but lack the passion of F. Nietzsche, L. Feuerbach, S. Freud... Which makes taking them seriously extremely hard.) It was as if Mom's mind was jumping back to our last conversation on near - death experiences. I gulped and said nothing.

Manhattan/ New York, 2011 (after graduation) Dear psychologist, Do you remember the bet? "If I pass final exams, I'll send you a postcard from New York." The weather could be better, but our daily trips are fun. My "father" and me walk longer routes than we usually do at "home". Our longest? From the hotel (one corner away from Times Square) to Strand Books Store! Once back in Germany, I'll check my weight; I mean, eggs with bacon (and fresh orange juice) for breakfast, plain bagels for lunch, 2 small bottles of water, 1 big bottle of coke and 1 bag of Snickers before going to bed won't stay unnoticed. We only ate 2 hamburgers three times in our 12 days of vacation. And if I hadn't lost my trust in you long ago, I'd also tell you about the tears, I shed due to my anxiety to open my mouth and speak English as I've been taught 9 years and my father's pride of having learnt to order "a cup of coffee" within a couple of days. "Next time, I won't take you to USA with me!" He barked (in German), every word dripping with disappointment. But it's just "my" ADD running wild.

Hometown, 2011 (graduation) Studying. Repeating. Letting Mom ask me questions. Marking wrong answers. Notes. Puns/ Jokes to memorize stuff, I keep forgetting. Strong subjects: 1 hour, weak subjects: 2. New material (books, programs...) Months passed fast. No space for astrology in my head. As if the veils of colors weren't right in front of my eyes. The aura? The energy? I saw them, eyes closed. Spots of light. Dancing like a flame. Purple. Green. Purple. At first, I tried to manipulate them. "Yellow! Yellow! Yellow!" Purple. Green. Purple. On the way to the stadium: Red. Green. Red. Light seeping through my eyelids? Falling asleep: A rainbow. Rapid eye movement? (Silvery) White. Eyes opened. A benevolent (guardian) spirit?! Oh, I should have ignored the information and directions for use. But: It's the Pill! It's about my (human) body! My brain calmed down. Balls do not float. Balls do not follow you around. Rays of sunshine can let silvery objects shine so bright that they're mistaken for white ones. Ink stays on your fingers when you touch a fresh print. A grey circle on the photo. Welcome to the world of divination.

High- School, 2010 (countdown to final exams: less than 1 year) Heart and brain are the worst inventions ever. Really. Someone should tell them that they are part of one breathing being, supposed to work together to keep one body alive. But it won't be me. I'm just a soul, too tired to argue, too old to fight against - well- myself. Bad enough that I... needed help to make it through school. Somehow.With average marks and a fake smile on my lips. Even worse, the moment, I had to confess: "I wouldn't have gotten so far if teachers hadn't put much trust into me", found the right words to encourage and unleashing "powers" I wouldn't have dared to search for within my very core. Nevertheless, I was... devasted by the question if I could be "gifted". No! I wish, I could have cried. Chances were... Impossible! Every fiber of my being broke out into a silent protest. "I'm only human!" On the other side, I was more than happy to learn that there was a reason for peers avoiding me. It wasn't my fault that I was a lone wolf. Finally, at home, tears were streaming down my cheeks.

Hospital, 2008 - 2010 Danger could lure behind the next corner. But hyperfocus makes blind for what's awaiting the carefree behind closed doors at their own four walls. A piercing scream through the dusk. That's how the drama began. Two days later, the bus that should never arrive. Did my worst nightmare turn into cruel reality? One call would reassure me that everything... ... was far from all right. It was early afternoon, and my brother in hospital. 6 pm. A deep breath. Just a few seconds and... The door stayed closed. No beloved pain in the neck was yelling into my room: "Night!" I fought against the tears. "Right, he isn't here." "Officially", my brother doesn't belong into an institution without any specialists; yet, it was decided to let him stay in the hospital for the amount of time, it would take to find a place where he can be treated. And it was urgent. Him, always a ray of sunshine, he was changing to the complete opposite: Stuff was broken, the staff as helpless as us. The little boy who used to sit on the stairs in front of the back door and carve statues of animals did not exist anymore. In his stead, there was that "old man waiting for death" as my father put it. I hoped, our love would reach him somehow and help him to recognize us. Meanwhile, I've figured out why it didn't.

Hospital, 2008 - 2010 Documents are the last eye- witnesses, and even them will be ripped apart in 2 or 3 years (2019/ 2020). Time has healed. Scars will remain... Will I see them fading? The echo of the promise has been staying within my soul ever since: "I will pass the final exams and become visible to Mom and Dad again!" Is this... jealousy? Despair? Was I fed up and rebeled against my little - sister - role? Did I believe, I could make my parents smile? Yes. Yes. Yes. No. What I intended, was making them proud. I wanted to be their daughter. One, they would give some positivity. One, they would trust and cheer up: "You can make it!" Being the center of attention... no way, I'd suddenly be everybody's darling. My brother was. And it's my duty to protect him.

Home, 2010 (less than 1 year 'till final exams) To break the cycle of thoughts, distract yourself. If you can. The (not so funny) thing about lessons of life: You can't escape them. Whatever you need to fullfill your purpose, you will face. Pick your tools. Most of mine are books, and not all of them in English. During the course of the past two years (2015 - 2017), rough German - English translations have become a habit of mine. For one reason: A weird taste of literature. You may correct me if the "reviews", wording... resemble a published work. It's pure coincidence. (Honestly, I don't even follow new trends in local book shops so what would I know about those in other countries?) Oh, I remember more than 90% of my lectures in such details like the wand maker Olivander "every wand [he] ever sold". (Olivander, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone) A burden, but I'm working on an optimistic attitude. Hard. Have been doing so for around 15 years. Among those books having left a deep impression, one holds a special place in my heart. I owe it so so much. Like a new angle on prayers. Protestants, against our claim to let people more room for creating personal rituals, would probably rather see Christians folding hands and hear them repeating traditional bible verses on Sunday morning than talking to Arch-/ Guardian Angels. Opposed to Catholics, who are very versed in keeping words towards God's son and (celestial) servants where they're more than less reachable to young and old. I've never thought about my own that much. Or not enough, considering the bond to Archangel Gabriel that has been "simply existing" since my year of birth (1992). But growing up, Michael's and Raphael's role in my life was getting bigger. And isn't it said, God has more creative ways to send messages/ communicate with humans than anyone/- thing else? Was it in high- or middle school, it was the first time, I heard of C. G. Jung (1875 - 1961) and his theories on symbolism in dreams? Whatever. They were so impressive, something, I could better agree on than those of Sigmund Freud (1856 - 1939). Everyone secretly dreams of getting laid.😝 An author's suggestion to intensify the relationship to our shield, teacher, advisor, guide and healer, "inner voice" warning us, and treat "our" angel as companion on our way, is it another invitation to shake one's head and ridicule something beyond comprehension? I, myself, learnt to love Andrea del Verrochio's (1435/ 1436 - 1488) / Leonardo da Vinci's (1452- 1519) painting of Archangel Raphael and Tobias (around 1470 - 1475) with its parallels to the tale of Cupid and Psyche (Eros and Psyche). One work that directs the audience's attention to the potential closeness of angels and human soul as it finds expression in dreams. A code which needs to be deciphered.

Home, 2016 (less than a year 'till final exams) Earth Angels. 50%. I looked out of the window. What was missing? I should be happy. One secret of my past was pulled into the day light! Why would spiritually grown up beings from foreign planes care about... humans? How should their "wisdom" - one not from this planet- inspire settlers of Earth to keep the blue pearl alive? Destroying is so much easier... Not to mention that a human body lacks certain functions to perform species- specific magic. Yes, they do produce heat, but you won't witness an angry woman in her mid- twenties throwing fire balls around physically. I could have said, it's none of my business. Finding anyone to support my "hidden"/ "sleeping talents" before the beginning of the exam phase was no option. My mother - though Catholic-accompanied my older brother and me to the Protestant Church. More than less on a regular basis whereas my father, a Protestant, would go on great days only (not actual holidays, the limited occassions when the whole family - more blood relatives than you're aware of- gathers to celebrate a member's first step to a new part of the circle of life regarding birth, childhood/ puberty, adulthood and death). I could have talked to her. She had both an open mind and ear. Always. Our theological discourse always lasted for hours. Asking her for advice on esoteric matters was like asking for her agreement of me reading the Book of Revelation without her being around. An odd contradiction to the amount of times, we used to stop by at... you guessed it... an esoteric shop. Tarot. Pendulums. Chrystals. And so on. Very soon, the air was getting colder.

Home, 1996 If only there wasn't a tiny problem... Everything, I touch, breaks. Can anybody fix? Nope. Curiosity may not always kill the cat... Never tell anyone why you keep your distance to technical devices. "Don't be silly! We're living in the 21st century" - I wish, I didn't - "You are an adult!" - On the papers only! - Yep. One that's rather save than sorry. Guys! I'm looking like a vampire, I know! Tired, yes. Yet, a l i v e! So what? Age is not a number. Otherwise, I wouldn't have pulled at the magnetic tape. Oh, those "cogs" out of plastic! Absolutely fascinating! Oh, me fool! If only I had put more trust into technology! I didn’t want to make sure that everything worked. I was experimenting on how it worked. Brother, I'm sorry. In that night, dozens of audio tapes lost their voices. Forever. (I was forgiven, my brother still loves me and asks me to switch on a DVD - player🙈.)

Home, 2010 (countdown 'till final exams: less than a year) While my parents were having a little chat with my teachers and stating their worries about the amount of hours that I spend at my desk, I sat in my room, hands shaking as my fingertips were tracing over the letters on the book cover: Earth Angels. I took a deep breath. When I was a kid, my grandmother gave me the one or other tarot reading and showed me the hidden world's map in the pattern of our bathroom floor. But this had been the only brief excourses into the realm of the invisible so far. Whoever identified the gifted as Indigo Children did a great job. Once both phenomens were linked to eachother, seperating was like teaching a cat not to hunt mice. Was it Doreen Virtue? Her guide was the last piece of the puzzle that should burn the chain of association "Earth Angels- Indigo Children" into my mind forever. In the light of year 2012 and the end of the Maya calendar suspense was increasing. Apocalyptic- themed literature was consumed like there was no tomorrow (pun intended). A chaotic scenario that made me wonder how Christ's return would look like. A situation where the wish for one messiah is understandable; whereas I couldn't help but shaking the head about "teenagers and young adults" who would save the planet by becoming teachers and instruct humanity how to live in peace and harmony with nature and neighbors. A fascinating concept. "Light- workers" leaving their home realm to heal wounds caused by humans. An easy concept. Old souls reincarnated hundreds of times who have improved wisdom and (magical) skills to serve creatures that they could despise for good reasons rooting in an ancient past and verse. Naturals when it comes to spirituality at any regard. "An excuse for spoiled brats to get whatever their hearts desire." After finishing the quiz, I closed the book. "An Incarnated Angel, huh?" True. I want to help people and I do not have a clue how to. "I fear, I'lI have to do more than laying my hands on someone else's back and send energy."

What better way to begin my new blog than to write a more organised and comprehensive entry about my awakening, identity and introduction to the community? I did create one of these before and my first consideration was to copy-paste into my new blog but the disorganised layout and outdated information in some parts led me to scrap it and start from scratch. So without further ado, I'll get straight to business. Introduction For those who don't know me, I suppose I'll begin with a quick introduction. Within the community I always go by AshenFall, I tend not to switch around my username for simplicity and because I've grown attached to it. We don't constantly change our names in real life, so why do so on the internet? More informally I go by the names: Ash, Ashen or Floof, although any reasonable derivation of my username I'm perfectly fine with. I am a 19 year old trans man from the edge of the Lake District, a national park situated in one of the northernmost regions of England. Surprisingly, I do have a life outside of the internet, although the amount of time I spend on it would have one believe otherwise! I'm currently studying psychology at university, hoping one day to find a job in the realm of forensic psychology but I try not to be too specific due to the unpredictable nature of life and health issues. I have a pet birb, a Green Cheeked Conure named Darwin. But I also have a more fiery bird companion living in my head, Arca. I do have a daemon too, Arabella is the name she currently goes by, although as of yet she does not have a settled form. So I suppose you could say we're a system of three but not in the traditional sense, I almost always control the body. I've been an active part of the otherkin community for nearly two years now, although I have identified as such (without knowing the term) for several years longer. I have three kintypes, snow leopard, western dragon and Rhys of the Borderlands universe. I most certainly didn't discover them at the same time, it was far more of a staggered process, in order from left to right. I won't deny I had my fair share of mistakes happen on the journey of self-discovery and I'll go into that below. Initial Awakening Thinking back to when I first felt the signs of being non-human a lot is pretty blurry. I never had an awakening in the traditional sense, but at the same time it wasn't a feeling that was "always there and I knew it". As a child I'd always had a strong draw toward animals, I saw them more as brethren than as another species as cheesy as that sounds. But hey I was a kid, kids are pretty damn cheesy. Felids had always stuck out to me above the rest in terms of living creatures, and in mythology I was always attracted to dragons and felid-like creatures. I pretty much always played the cat, the tiger, the dragon. I didn't like playing as a human character all too much because it just felt wrong to me in a way I can't explain or quite put my finger on. Looking back on that maybe it was a sign of my non-human identity and something that as a kid I couldn't really understand. Or maybe it was just some of the building blocks that led to a psychological occurrence forming my identities. I still don't know whether I view a more spiritual or psychological approach on being otherkin after all, so for now it's kind of a strong mixture of the two. Either way I try not to put too much stock into it because kids naturally play pretend and sentimentalism can skew things greatly. As I grew up of course the days of playing pretend and running around on all fours ceased. Weirdly enough and much to my dismay however, I just didn't feel right like I was yearning to be able to express myself in such a way again. I didn't for very obvious reasons but some days it got stronger than others and it confused me. I was confused enough as it could get anyways without that, we're talking around 2008/09 if I recall correctly, I was reaching the years of cringy teen angst and puberty. Again, sometimes I'm not quite sure if this was just a normal transitioning behaviour from child to teen, or if it was another sign. I always listed that time as the beginning my awakening because of the surfacing feelings and unease. But I'd be lying if I said it was the climax. It wasn't until I was 15 years old that it got to a level I couldn't deny or try to rationalise it as my imagination any more. Coincidentally enough this occurred not long after a time of great trauma in my life and the subsequent unstable months that followed. Around this time phantom limbs began to surface noticeably and I won't deny it scared me a bit, feeling appendages that weren't there. I think I may have had them before that time but my memory is sketchy. This was before my discovery of the otherkin community so I had no idea what phantom limbs were and I certainly didn't make the link to the syndromes of a similar name. I'd had what I assume were mental shifts before then so I'd experienced a couple weird things but this was a whole new level for me. I always tried to rationalise it. It had to just be my imagination and some kind of fantasy or escapism from the trauma, right? Shifts became that bit more frequent and noticeable in both forms, phantom and mental. Not knowing the terms I just called them "moments" to myself and although I did feel they were linked to animals (I began experiencing what I'd later understand to be species dysphoria) it wasn't quite that simple. I didn't know otherkin existed, to me I was either getting caught up in my imagination or going insane. But I'd soon discover it and things were about to start making sense to me. Finding the Community I was 16 at the time, had been in a long distance relationship for a good few months with my now ex. She first introduced me to the terms otherkin and therian. She was a therian herself, a self-proclaimed wolf therian. I feel sheepish admitting for a few months I genuinely thought therians were roleplayers thanks to my ex being that therian. The wolfaboo kind who makes a pack, howls at the moon and wears tails and collars in public to express their therianthropy and "get in touch" with the animal within. So it was a case of thinking: "oh cool I guess I can be a therian too" although I didn't go to the wolfaboo extent, just online roleplaying with my ex and some other people. At a later date I do remember her explaining to me better what a therian was. That it was an identity and more than just some roleplaying game. That's when I began googling the terms and came across a page on Therian-Guide. I never made a forum account there, just browsed through the information pages and I admit it really helped me make sense of what the terms really meant. It also hit me that these feelings I'd had earlier on in my life fit with some of the terminology being used and the definitions. That's when I seriously began to question if I was otherkin, although at the back of my mind I was worried I was being a "wannabe" and taking things at face value. So I didn't start using the term right away, I just kept it in mind and started searching for advice on how to find your kintype. I don't recall where I searched, there were several sites, most abandoned or outdated. And there was a heck of a lot of conflicting and confusing information so I believe I stepped back from it all for awhile, feeling overwhelmed. It wasn't many months after that when me and my ex broke ties, went our separate ways I guess you could say. There'd been a bit of turmoil and a few situations but it didn't end badly. So with that and everything else I decided to stop the self-discovery and focus on more pressing things in my life, returning when I felt better equipped. The shifts never went away of course, but I tried not to worry about them too much. I did try each time to figure out what they were. Sometimes I felt phantom wings, but more often I felt fur and wide paws and a tail and ears. Mental shifts were harder to figure out. July of 2015 I decided to dive into the community again and get some advice and discover my kintype or kintypes. That's when I joined Kinmunity, finding it through a link on a Google+ therianthropy group page. After a few minutes of nervous consideration I signed up and made this very account, albeit anxious. I hadn't participated much on forums before and being socially anxious the worries exacerbated. I never joined the chat to begin with, for my first few weeks I don't think I ever dared click on the chat link out of fear, watching the little red number fluctuate in size. I did make an introduction (very cringy one in retrospect) and I felt so much relief to find myself being welcomed by so many people. Everyone seemed nice. It still took me a little while before I began posting frequently in the forums though, and asking for advice every now and then. Heh I still remember kiror telling me to look into bony fish after a red herring (pun not intended) meditation session. And speaking of red herrings, I've had plenty of them. I did look into the fish, but quickly found out that was just some sensation completely unrelated to shifts. I looked into canids for ages, it seems everyone begins drawn to the wolves. Some things fit, but a lot didn't so I gave up looking there. I felt feline mostly when I thought about it, but... there was something else too. I still had that draw to canines so I looked into hyenas, being feliformes with canine traits. The Striped Hyena I looked into for a bit but that didn't fit. Then I looked into the felidae. Tigers were my initial go-to. I'd been obsessed with tigers since I was a little kid (funnily enough they are the closest cousins of the snow leopard, a species which I didn't know about as a kid) so it felt natural to check 'em out. But nah, too big. I snooped through many different felids but it was a case of: "nope, no, no, no maybe... oh maybe not, no" before I hit the clouded leopard. There was a week where I thought I'd nailed it but something felt off about it still, especially climate-wise. After much introspection, meditation, writing otherkin journals and keeping tabs on odd behaviours I finally came to the conclusion I was a snow leopard. It was far from simple, that I can remember as clear as day. But I'd gotten there and that was what mattered to me most right then. Second Kintype I was so happy I'd found my kintype I completely disregarded the other feelings I'd been getting. I think at the time I just kept passing them off as cameo shifts, especially the whole wing scenario. After finding my kintype I'd gained that bit more confidence, not feeling like some kid out of the loop with no knowledge of what I was. I participated a lot more on the site, joined a few chat groups, made some great friends and life was good. But there came a time when I couldn't pass off these shifts as just cameos. They were happening far too frequently and, not aligning with my snow leopard kintype I had to acknowledge maybe I did have a second kintype. At the time I was skeptical, I knew there were many people with more than one kintype but I feel like I was always scared I was getting too ahead of myself hence the repression for so long. It took a long time before I settled on dragon actually, I tried to avoid that path because I thought much like the wolf situation with many therians, that I would be fluffy for thinking I was. But looking through birds, mythological birds and even dinosaurs, nothing fully clicked. My last step was looking into dragons and there it was I found my answer. Funnily enough I realised I also somewhat resemble one of Pathfinder's Gold Dragons. I don't believe I am one though and that part is more coincidence than anything else. I mean I won't disregard the possibility of course, but there are enough differences to make me shrug off that part. Like discovering my snow leopard kintype, I used similar tactics albeit more comfortably this time as I was getting the hang of the whole introspection thing. Again I did use meditation, but the memories I uncovered while doing so I was more sceptical and critical of, than I was back when I first found the community. There was enough to make me realise I was a desert dwelling dragon, but that is the most damning evidence I have uncovered since then. It was around this time also that I began questioning whether I saw my identity as spiritual or psychological in nature. Initially I had come into the community strongly believing it was a spiritual thing, but as I spent more time the psychological possibilities began making sense to me also. And being unsure about my stance on the existence of dragons in this universe it definitely brought rise to many doubts and uncertainties. I won't deny that even now I'm unsure which explanation makes the most sense to me, although I do believe there is a strong psychological aspect. I've never ruled out spiritual explanations either, especially regarding my snow leopard kintype, that I still feel is a strong mix of both. Multiplicity Some time around the months when I was discovering my second kintype I stumbled upon the tulpa community. We're talking late 2015, I'd heard the term mentioned a few times on Kinmunity and I was intrigued. I'd actually heard the term before then, but in that one creepypasta called the Tulpa Effect and I highly doubted they were the same thing. I looked about on tulpa.info, read some guides and started to build up a picture of what to expect from creating a tulpa and the best ways to go about it. I remember at the same time Mirath was also making a tulpa, so we kinda worked together through a lot of the process with our respective planned tulpae. I think it took around four to five months of forcing, concentration and meditation (and a few changes in form) before me and Arca could communicate to a point I could call him a headmate. Since then we've been extremely close and although he doesn't speak much on the site and admits he's more of an observer, he's a good companion. It's been well over a year now since we first "met" and honestly sometimes it's hard to remember what life was like without him around, sharing the headspace. Since that time we've had a couple walk-ins (never staying long) and within the last few months I also began work on a daemon who I briefly mentioned above. As I said there, we're still in the early stages but she's communicative just not yet settled on a form. That's something we'll dedicate more time on when I'm not so busy with university I think. Despite technically being a plural system, we've never really bothered to call ourselves such. We all feel at our core we're a strongly tied median system, yes we're separate from each other but all interconnected deeply enough we don't actually feel separate in that sense. Terminology tends to confuse me though, so honestly we don't care what we're called (within reason). Mistaken Identity and Being Fictionkin Before the daemonism situation I had quite the confusing time. First I began questioning fictionkin mid-2016, but not the kintype I currently identify as. I made a huge mistake that I'm still kind of embarrassed about to this day, because I jumped the gun and ignored my own advice I so often preach. It wasn't that I hadn't spent a good long look and think about it all! No, it was just at the time I encountered such a strong feeling and fuelled with cameo shifts I found myself led astray. I'd been binge watching American Horror Story again at the time and I think my love for the show interfered very strongly in that regard. But a month or so later after the Netflix binge I realised I had been too quick to conclude when any "identity" I had in that brief period completely ceased and safe to say hasn't resurfaced since. I still don't know if it was a cameo shift scenario or a fictionhearted connection but I do my best not to dwell on it too much because in the end it doesn't really matter. The gods know I lost a lot of confidence in my ability to tell what was what after my mistake. So after I'd played Tales from the Borderlands for the very first time and had it stir up emotions and recognition beyond what I could ever have expected I was crazy doubtful. I tried for a short while to repress it, but it was actually making me depressed and the homesickness hit extreme levels to where at some points I just didn't want to talk to anybody, even Arca. I decided at that point I couldn't pretend this wasn't a thing, so I plucked up my courage and decided it was time to do some good old introspection and research. I'd known about the Borderlands series for a while, but beyond the name I didn't know a single thing about it. So when I first played the games I had gone in blind and yet felt a familiarity that really struck me as off. And that was only the beginning. I do feel I had shifts relating to my identity as Rhys before then, but I'm wary of saying such, since it could be my mind playing tricks on me for that part. And of course I'm still very sceptical on my stance of being fictionkin in a past life. Since then I have definitely had a fair share of mental shifts and phantom shifts, like with my other kintypes. While in the questioning process I kept my distance from the games for a while, or anything that reminded me of them. Like my mistaken identity I didn't want to jump the gun. But unlike last time the homesickness just kept cropping up even when I hadn't been thinking about it, and the shifts didn't stop after a couple months. I got memories too, every now and then, brief flashes of things that happened between what was documented in the canon, and things that did happen in canon, albeit with a few differences. In terms of processes, similar to my previous two kintypes. Introspection, research, journals, distancing to ensure there was no confirmation bias or confusion going on. It did take me a while, but by the end of 2016 I felt comfortable enough in myself to know that this time I'd hit a kintype and not made a mistake. In terms of how close to canon I feel I am... pretty close. Most things I recall being similar or the same, nothing major happened differently anyways. Fini So by the time 2017 rolled in I was comfortable in saying I had three kintypes and now, heading into mid-year I most certainly still am. Since then I haven't had any other possible kintypes surfacing so I feel confident that I probably don't have any more. I've had cameo shifts every now and then, but very brief and since my mistake I tend to pay little heed to them, especially since so far none have persisted beyond a month at a time. With all of that said, I suppose I'll conclude this entry, my fingers are losing fuel here, heh. If anyone actually read this far, props to you because I am terrible for rambling on too long. And on that note I'm happy to answer questions here on this blog post or elaborate on anything.