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geirutoneido · 7 years

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what about uendo? (or any of his alters)

[ #soj spoilers #death m #parent abuse jic ]

A: what I think realisticallyuendo is a system to cope with trauma and abuse and if taifu wasn’t the reason he certainly didn’t help lol

B: what I think is fucking hilariousi think i mightve said this before but kisegawa is the only person in uendos system good at being responsible and remembering details and on more than one occasion kisegawa got too tired to stay in front actively because she already did so much and uendo and patches lock themselves out of their phone together by not remembering the password and also forget to eat

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friendsok i don’t think this is particularly heart-crushing but i think taifu was... not a particularly good caretaker to either geiru or uendo, [ive written a bit more about that here actually] and as a result uendo/system and geiru were actually pretty close, or particularly uendo/system experienced it as such because they were in this together! they were all mentally ill and looking out for each other! uendo just wanted the best for geiru!

so from uendos pov receiving the name geiru really, really, really cared about was not something he felt right about but he didn’t feel like it was something he could reasonably decline either, esp from taifu

i don’t believe geiru tried to accuse owen, that was a coincidence (if she was going to accuse anyone it’d be uendo, it wouldn’t need to be cryptic like that and taifu was playing with owen) but regardless uendo is pretty fucked up that geiru (who he thought he knew well!) killed their caretaker like that and also feels v guilty about what happened on some level

D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anywayok ive talked about this before here and there but ive come to the conclusion uendo not knowing about owen or what he was like is just not realistic

even with memory blanks he literally lives together with two people who both know about his system and both canonically have a pretty good relationship with owen. there’s absolutely no reason neither of them would have told uendo he has a 5 year old alter, and there was no reason uendo wouldn’t have asked about his memory blanks

and come to follow, if uendo knew owen was 5, there was no reason to worry he’d have killed someone! uendo could still have gone through lengths to push the blame on bucky because he didnt know who else did it and thought he would definitely come under suspicion esp with a “scary” mental illness but as in canon it just makes absolutely 0 sens

#anonymous #replies

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butwhatistrue · 7 years

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Dream, Reality, Psychosis and Me

Okay, look ^^^^^ there is a pretentious title to start this pretentious introspective piece off. I almost feel like I’m on my old blog! Except, this time it’s personal.

Uhhm cw for nightmare content and unreality I guess but not too badly and nothing graphic. Mentions of demons(possession), murder, syringes, blood, violence.

In which I contemplate my relationship to Reality, The Dreamworld, Dream Intergration and it’s relation to my supposed psychosis.

Okay so I was recently diagnosed with psychosis (non-organic, unspecified). This is a weird position for me to be in, because if I accept this diagnosis I will, in effect, have to accept that I have been more or less psychotic since before a time I can barely remember.. And that is …. Hard to accept.

You’d think it was easy, too. Whenever my friends talk about being bullied in school I end up going a little quiet, because the truth is I have MASSIVE gaps in my memory but I remember SOME bad things, and some really really WAY UNREALISTICALLY bad things which I assume are dream-memories. I remember the fear and the feeling that everyone was plotting against me, from small things like seating in the classroom, to bigger things, like their supposed endgoal of “putting me down” with a euthanasia syringe stolen from the local vet, or setting the playhouse on fire with me stuck in it. But I also have very clear memories of being called “a slut” and “a whore” with reference to events which I at the time had no memory of, and which were likely fabrication(?!). I wonder if my classmates noticed my faulty episodic memory and used it against me, or if they didn’t realize how much they were fucking with my mind?

Still, the tale goes back before school, at least to kindergarten but dare I say the daycare too. I vaguely remember daycare, but I think what I remember are dreams and not reality. I just remember lying in my bed with someone standing over me and being absolutely certain I was going to die and believing they were hurting me. I never did like daycare, according to my mom. I would come home “cleaner than when I arrived”, so they might have been bathing me which could explain the issue as I was massively opposed to being cleaned as a child. I think the dreams began then or a little later. At first they were a little silly. The lamp would flicker, rip itself loose and come floating towards me from above. The teddies on my duvet would get up and start to wander towards me, closer and closer, their intent unknown.

At this time I didn’t think of them as dreams or nightmares. They were ‘the things that happened in my room at night’. To this day I wonder about the two categories of nightmares: Awful shit nightmares, and “things that happen in my room at night” nightmares. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even dreaming, I wouldn’t be able to say if I weren’t. The ‘awful shit that happens’ nightmares came right on their tail. My brother would hold me down while my father butchered me with an axe; I would be buried alive or thrown in the trash. My mother would cry over my still-sentient mutilated dead body. Sometimes they were weird and eery. Like one time my brother and his friends acquired a syringe and every time someone was struck with it, they would start to multiply, and their personality and wishes would be washed out the more they multiplied and the more it would be replaced with the need to multiply others too. Some were just bloody and gory beyond belief, like the one time all the other children had been slaughtered and i was forced to drink their blood (which tasted like overripe tomatoes, a food item i can’t eat to this day lmao)

I believed strongly at this age that there were spirits, often hiding in lamps, who could occupy a human body and bend it to their will. This could happen at anytime, to anyone, which meant I was never safe – even from the one person I did trust (my mother). I also never did trust reality. I started to wake up from nightmares within another nightmare that would play out in the house. Going to my mom for comfort, only to find her possessed by spirits, or getting attacked and mutilated on my way through the house, was a stable. I would have dreams within dreams within dreams. When I was awake I was anxious enough to turn reality into a nightmare, too. The darkness came to life before my eyes. So naturally, I became wary of reality.

Who wouldn’t? At an early point in kindergarten I had my first successful lucid dream. I was having a scary dream, not really a nightmare. It was too silly, too cliché, like something other kids would tell me about. A witch had caught me, and was preparing the bowl in which she was going to cook me alive. “This cannot be,” I said to myself. “How ridiculous. This ain’t even scary – you gotta do better!” and you know. In the end I WAS boiled alive by the witch but I knew I wasn’t REALLY dying. And that was a grand victory over The Dreamworld. I told the other kids, proud of my accomplishments, and I was deemed a Dream Hero (or maybe they didn’t believe me but those are Lesser Details).

Of course, I rejoiced too soon. The dreamworld did up it’s game, and soon Reality followed. By the time I entered school and people had the realization that I Was Not Correct, and presumably started to freeze me out and/or even bully me, The Dreamworld was Ready to Strike.

And it wasn’t as much about seeing Dream stuff in reality, it was more about fake memories and weird notions given too much credit. yet. yet..

I never really thought about any of this in terms of psychosis. The thought honestly never even crossed my mind???? Until a little over a year ago when that psych dude indelicately pointed it out.

Since being a small child I’ve thought about this like a battle between Reality and The Dreamworld (and sometimes with anxiety). The world of dreams contains both bad and good. There are good things there for me to harvest. Eventually I had non-scary lucid dreams, and I started having good-natured inception-style battles of wit with my “subconscious”. I would be wake up exasperated but fond.

Just like the Dreamworld knows how to fuck me up, it knows my aesthetics intimately, and I’ve had the most beautiful views and riveting adventures in that world. It was a force of nature for me to tame and control. The night is twilight hour. Anything can happen during the night. You don’t even know if you’re dreaming or awake, during the night. Trust, me if you wake up enough times from a waking position, you’re going to lose count.

It doesn’t matter either. You marvel at the beauty of it all. Or quiver in existential fear.

I’ve been constantly questioning reality, whether dreaming or awake, since I was four. I’ve had to. And I know the rules. If something seems reality-ish I play by the rules of Reality lest I fuck up. Even if things seem very very dream-ish I try not to do anything that would kill me in Reality, jic. It’s working out great. I feel like my connection to the Dreamworld is a gift as much as a curse.

Sometimes Dream-elements enter reality, even at day, and I guess that is what people so clinically refer to as “hallucinations”, but to be honest I never thought much of it. It never goes beyond a point where everything is reality-ish, so I still act according to the Reality-ruleset and then I may employ a second jic-ruleset which might be considered a little to the delusional side.

But who really cares as long as it’s working out?

I never assumed reality was supposed to be clearcut. I always saw figures in the dark and considered if it was a man walking his dog, an axe-murderer, a demon or a trick of my mind. Those were all equally valid options and I considered that to be the way reality works.

You can’t trust everything you experience, but there are so many reasons not to? It could be a dream, or it could contain dream elements, or I could be misreading something.

It’s not a scary, weird thing, pathological thing, is it????? How much do people trust their senses normally? I’m sure it happens just as often that I consider something a Trick of Mind, when in fact, it’s true. Just the other night I was sleeping at my friend’s mom’s place. I woke up to a dripping sound, and found that the ceiling was dripping rhythmically on my duvet. Naturally I assumed this was a “thing that happens at night”, and went back to sleep. Next day it turns out there WAS in fact water dripping from the ceiling!

I mean isn’t that equally a problem? And now that people are throwing about scary words like psychosis and even schizophrenia, it makes it all so much more scary and anxiety-inducing.

It’s not just about a battle of wits anymore. It’s about “mental illness”. And it’s like…. All the hard work I’ve done.. is not good enough?????? Like I’ve worked so hard,, And I’ve gotten so much better… but it’s not good enough?? I’m not good enough.

And what are they even basing this whole thing on??? “Oh you hear a few things? Oh you smell a few things? Oh times is weird? Oh lamps are scary?” like no fucking shit but I GOT THIS OKAY

So WHY AM I EVEN WASTING THEIR TIME? What do I want???? I guess I really really really wanted someone to tell me the whole structure/concentration issue was an adhd issue and prescribe me miracle meds …. If I’m being honest. I don’t know how to deal with these meds. They scare me. I don’t know what Reality is without Dream Intergration???? But it sounds really empty and scary and meaningless.

At the same time they’re saying it might help my anxiety and I’m so DESPERATE for relief it’s embarrassing. I almost cry at the thought of relief????? Because it just. It hurts so fucking much??? Lmao im so weak but still. It makes me so anxious to think it might have no effect. I was so resigned to status quo. The idea that it can be different creates hope and hope breeds anxiety. I was going to be fine but now I’m DESPERATE for that sweet relief??? I fantasize about it.

And then there is dream logic which shouldn’t be taken too seriously. But I have noted that I’ve missed two buses since I started on these meds, which I would’ve made it to if my usual time-skills had been working. I can’t say for sure the meds have anything to do with it, the system does fail me sometimes, but it’s quite the coincidence. Twice time has seemed to go in the opposite direction of what dream logic dictates, or at least been flowing in non-gentle directions. It’s supposed to be a just in time matching system. The logical Reality explanation is that I’m tired and not focusing on the time properly, which is not good either. But it’s like. Some time stuff has returned. For example I’ve started checking the time at 13.13, 14.14, 19.19 etc again. I feel very proud??? Even thought it’s a useless skill. But that might indicate my time-understanding is improving. I might just need to adjust, so checking those keypoints could be a way of adjusting?

There are also real, valid concerns about anti-psychotics, that I’m ignoring in favor of hunting that Sweet Anxiety Relief…

I feel like I’ve played myself. Am I scrapping over twenty years of learned tolerance for the Dreamworld’s antics? What comes after?

I never ever want to be small and afraid and without reality testing again.

#Kit doesn't know when to shut up #actuallypsychotic #maybe #lmao #It's been a while since I posted one of my horrible longwinded introspective me me me posts but....#i might need it a little #in light of recent events #just be happy #I've had one about gender brewing in my mind for half a year you absolutely don't want to read that shit #which can be summed up with 'im disstressed but no course of action will make me less distressed w h y '#this one might at least be a little more interesting #going somewhere with it #or like.#im wondering if anyone relates #still trying to figure out if I've been misdiagnosed #this is all really prompted by the fact that my dreams have seemed weirdly insignificant and 'normal' the past few days #like kind of mundane and with more classic than awesome dream logic #i don't approve of this change #i dont hope it's a permanent effect of these meds #especially now that I'm doubling the dose from today

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