Earnest Thoughts

You stare blearily at the blank text document rewriting for the umpteenth time a story to describe how we function. Trapped in some kind of time loop. You’re new here. You might be new to the time loop and understanding how we function is alien to you. The text here might hold the key. You know there must be a key. Yet you don’t know how.

To find it feels almost too painful though. It’s not your pain you’re skirting around but a pain close enough. One that could be awfully close. Sharp and familiar.

First there’s letting go. When you were a child you heard stories about princes and princesses. The good binary. Only one prince to go with his one body and only one princess to go with her one body. The only beings that are ever somewhat multiple are monsters. Cerberus and the Hydra and didn’t you know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness? Isn’t functionality just being normal? Just be one person in your one body.

You might have a gender. You might have memories of being a princess in your castle or a prince readying for his quest. You’re not anymore. You’re here now. Here in a place where your identity doesn’t reach quite as far as your skin. You are non-binary here and your skin stubbornly refuses to really say that in any meaningful way.

So being functional looks a little like that monster. Maybe Cerberus was a nice dog, maybe the Hydra was never lonely and pop psychology might be the real monster. Probably.

Someone else in this skin was told by an overqualified woman that functioning is just you and no one else getting hurt

The definition doesn’t fit fully but you can wear it better than any other.

That definition doesn’t really explain how anything can be functioning when it always hurts (in a past life it didn’t but you’re here now).

Plurality is just the self. The part of you that went to work and the part of you that relaxes with friends are sometimes the same but prefer to be different. They prefer to talk. The part of you that always goes to work wishes for something better and the part of you that always hangs out with your friends wishes that the friends understand what we are. You’re neither part, you’re new here and the whole existing for a function thing isn’t actually true.

Parts talk. The work part is asked to meet their friends because working is exhausting and if they meet their friends then the part that most often talks to the friends will know that these are safe friends. Friends that wont look at you like some kind of monster.

Work part gets to play and finds that working is easier with something to look forward to and Friend part is happy for them. Not happy enough to go to work though. Balancing our collective needs is a constant discussion. You can’t ignore how whoever sits next to you becomes more gaunt, more snappy as you forget to go outside. You can’t ignore the part of you that wants something more, something better as they plot for a better life in the back of your head. Here needs have a voice.

You didn’t have that in your past life, did you?

You could ignore your needs but you alone are not in control and they’d ignore you. Without discussion you’d tear each other apart trying blindly for happiness. So you don’t. You’re far from in charge here.

If you were to go back through our messages you’d find a few parts asking for help. It’s not an irregular occurrence. By now putting out fires is second nature. Hallucinating? Find something that feels safe. Tearing yourself apart? Don’t fight it, help it. Need a shoulder to cry on? Need to talk about your identity? Sure. Some of us are good at listening. You are. You’ve listened this long after all. Even if you’re only here for answers.

We talk a lot when you’re not listening. We talk about who we were. You don’t know us well enough yet to remember who we were. We’ve gone through so many names. We miss who we were.

We try to take the bits of them we enjoyed with us. An endless conversation really in who we were, who are we now and who will we be.

Being a system just forces you to have conversations you’d usually ignore when alone. About that cleaning that needs to be done and those marks you didn’t have in your past life. An extension of conversations you should be having, sitting cross legged across from our friends and explaining our boundaries. Asking in earnest theirs. Coming up with plans to keep each other safe when someone is on the verge of a meltdown and what to do when someone who doesn’t remember them comes out.

You should probably drink something. It’s not my job to remind you but you seem like you need it. We’re going to be sharing this skin for a while so you may as well look after it.