In the weeks since I posted my last article here, which featured a public declaration from me that I could no longer support the rest of what I once called CommunityBelonging, I’ve been floating through life in a semi-numb, listless state. The members of the community I once belonged to, an inner sanctuary that I had taken pride in being a part of for the past 6 years, had detached from me earlier that day, and the declaration I posted here was the final step in their being able to move on, but I was still where I had always been. I gave away pounds of toies, in the hope that physical children could use them where those of spirit had not. I went out with family to two events in two weeks, a new record since moving into my own apartment. I was relieved, then, that I didn’t have to worry about meeting the small needs of community members which had so quickly turned my life upside down in previous years with their sheer volume. I felt emotionally and spiritually drained outside of that relief, but attributed that to having spent a sizable amount of energy supporting and sustaining an inner world with thousands of people, most of whom I had never met.
As I came down from the second event, though, that relief turned to depression. I struggled creatively, fought with friends, and caught myself using child voices out of habit, even though the children who had origionally spoken that way seemed to be nowhere near me. The days dragged on, and I began to find myself focusing on, and missing, a physical person who had left quite an impression on me, despite all of our interactions either having been on voice chat applications or over the phone. My anguish over this became so intense that my mind, being as used to plurality as it was, began to create someone who, for all intents and purposes, was my ideal version of this particular person, and when I realized what was happening I became mildly worried. I had heard nothing from the inside, apart from scattered communications assuring me that those I’d created were within me, and a one-time encounter with two of those people. I wanted nothing to do with giving rise to a new life in the half-conscious, habitual way I’d grown used to since therapy diverted our course until I could asure myself of the wellbeing of those who had already come about in such a manner. As a result, I felt nothing when the potential new life began interacting with me, not even when I asked him who he was and he replied with the words, “Whatever you want me to be.”
Things are slowly coming back, but it is as I’ve recently told the dear friend supporting me as I figure these tangles out. I strained a lot of myself, my friendships in the local world and who knows how many other life areas as I tried to meet the needs of those who once lived within me, and like any other kind of overuse, it’s going to take its sweet time to heal itself. The good knews is that creativity is coming back, and I’m hopeful for the future. Who knows if I’ll reach for plurality again – something tells me I won’t abbandon it entirely, but I probably won’t be surrendering to it as I did earlier this year, not because of anything anyone did, but because I discovered that it isn’t possible for me to meet many small needs of numerous people who cannot or will not make themselves known to me beyond their requests or directives. Some people can handle that. I happen not to be one of them.
While I sence that my mind’s instinct is to try to create more people to fill what feels like an unclosable gap in my life, with associations attempting to weave themselves together without my guidance, I am going to try to channel that tendency into writing short stories. I don’t know if I’m going to post them up here, give in and end up allowing myself to become plural again, or make some new and world-changing discovery in the future, but for now, until I know the status, as it were, of the beings I created from my own thoughts and desires, the only safe course of action I can think of is to write and write and write, so as to prevent new life from coming into a place that isn’t ready for it. I’m still raw from trying to sustain and provide sanctuary to countless astral beings. I don’t think anyone should have to live in a mind like that.
Thank you for reading.