system[?] here. i guess? idk, this is just a confession and maybe asking for advice if there is any for something like this. i struggle a lot with singletmoding when depression and dysphoria gets bad, and it has been bad a lot lately. like months. and its hard because im basically just fragments anyways, nothing super distinct. and i dont have a headspace, or voices. so i dont know what to do to make myself feel more plural. sometimes a really distinct headmate comes to front and it feels like something but most of the time it feels like nothing and i miss plurality. but its not easy. idk if theres any advice because so much of it focuses on having a headspace or looking inward or creating a headspace etc etc but when we had tried that before it made the host at the time go dormant due to stress and we still didnt get like a headspace out of it. idk. you dont have to post this, im sorry.
shhhhh anon - so, for the record our system:
doesn't have a headspace or any sense of spatialness related to fronts/switching
doesn't have internal dialogue. we can't write notes either, our brain rejects it
doesn't have a memory split / gaps between headmates - switches are just a slight shift we help happen
tends to hold fronts for days at a time, but finds that fronts often "fade out" into mush after a while, the vividness goes away and it gets kinda generic feeling
and my main sentiment is. don't force it. these quieter types of systemhood are about connecting with yourself/ves, they're about curiosity. they're about exploration and finding new ways to express yourself/ves. and they're all about really small things instead of really big things.
We usually wouldn't offer such specific advice to a specific ask, because we hate prescribing the way systems should be - but this is our personal thought process for when we've masked ourself into a hole and forgotten what we're even capable of experiencing.
So, think of a chime, or a pond - if it's thrashed, it's an unclear mess well after you stop, but if you touch it while it's still, that input resonates, and what you put in slowly comes back to your ears and eyes. Systems often have this "reflective" quality, I think - which means reconnecting with your system often means looking for things you put in to it.
You miss the feeling of your system. That's a good start - let yourself have that. It kinda sucks but, mull over and genuinely explore that feeling. Then keep your ears open from then and into the week, and you just might feel that feeling that your system misses itself/you back. Have a fondness? Same thing. Something you're wearing would look better if certain fragments were more present? *Think* that - picture it. Look after yourself through looking after your system - see if it looks after you back. Feel for that little "delay" between when you feel a feeling, and it comes back to being felt about you.
And hey, even if that doesn't mean "switching and fronts" like you want it to, maybe it'll feel good anyway.
rb to tell prev they're being so brave right now and pat their head a little please
if fighting fatphobia is not part of your politics i don't trust you.
The thing was a mound of flesh and mottled skin, as big as a barn and the shape of a pumpkin. Four tentacles as thick as trees hung limp at its sides; teeth ringed the gaping mouth at the top of its head like a crown.
A huge, sad whale eye the colour of wine stared at the knight. She could see her reflection in the jelly surface.
“We don’t know what it is,” she heard. “Some kind of monster that makes a perfect copy of whatever it eats. They think that was how the Dark Lord made his armies, feeding his minions to it so that it would make hundreds of copies of them. Do you recognize it?”
The knight opened her mouth. She hesitated. “Yeah,” she murmured, drawing out the word. “We found it in the Dark Lord’s tower, right?”
“That’s right. That’s where it ate you.”
The knight turned around and looked at her other reflection. This one appeared to be about ten years older, and had doffed her armor for a loose blue tunic and breeches.
She was holding a cup of tea. She had pressed another cup into the knight’s hand when she woke up here. It had been a shock finding herself suddenly out the obsidian dungeons of the Dark Lord’s tower and into this tall room of stone and straw. The warmth of it in her hands steadied her a bit.
“Everyone else in the party was worried, but then it started making copies of you,” the copy went on, staring up at the tentacled thing. “And all of the copies helped fight against the Dark Lord, and we won, and peace was restored across the land, but then nobody could figure out how to kill the damn thing or just to make it stop. Dozens of copies of us in a day, hundreds in a week, and then someone decided that the only thing we could do is just bring the thing here, seal it off and hope it starved to death.”
She sipped her tea. “Anyways, that was two-hundred years ago and it’s slowed down a bit. It can only make a new copy of us every few weeks now.”
The knight looked down into her tea. The copy had also draped a blanket over her shoulders.
“I have so many questions,” she said.
“I figured.”
“How can it be two-hundred years? I can still remember breaking into the tower. That feels like it was just minutes ago.”
“It was, basically. Your brain is a perfect copy of the original you’s brain at the exact moment she was eaten.”
“But the quest is just — done?”
“Yep. You missed some of the things that needed tying up afterward. There was a war, and a dragon, and some business about a ring.” She waved a hand. “It was before my time. Things are pretty settled now.”
“My parents?”
“Passed away about a hundred-and-fifty years ago. I’ve been told that they were very proud.”
The knight nodded. “Um. I don’t know if you know — we had an elf in our party—”
“I’m aware.”
“I — right. Obviously. Um. It’s just, after everything was done, I was going to ask her—”
“One of us did. She said yes. She outlived her. A couple of us have tried to reach out since then, but she wants to be left alone for a while.”
The knight considered this. “Uh — right,” she said eventually. Her fingers tightened around the tea cup. “Um. What do I do now?”
Her older copy shrugged. She had let her hair grow out again, the knight noticed. There were a few strands of grey against the black. “That’s up to you, I’m afraid,” she said. “A lot of us are finding work as soldiers and sellswords. We’ve done it for so long that most armies know we’re reliable and don’t tend to turn one of us away. Most of us are just sort of spreading out, wandering the world. Some of us keep in touch.”
The knight frowned. “What do you do?”
Her copy paused, tea cup half raised to her lips. “Sorry?”
“You said it only makes a new copy every few weeks now. So you just stay here and wait for a new one to show up?”
She lowered the cup. “Well,” she said. “I guess I just — I know what it can be like, waking up here in the dark, and it — it can be horrible trying to figure all of this out on your own.
“So I thought that what I’d do is just stay here with a pot of tea, and whenever I see myself again, I tell her that — that she’s not alone.”
“We aren’t?”
“Of course not. We’re all in this together, you know.”
you can make out with your headmates btw. there's literally nothing stopping you
Correct!! Though we haven't made out with a headmate yet, we do pet our dog headmate regularly.
Kiss your system goodnight!
That falls under dissociation, could also maybe be dysphoria.
You're valid hun and I hope you feel better soon!
Me thinks i disassociating or something
I no feel good
HEARTBREAKING: band you just discovered doesn't have any other songs that sound like that
So you really like bondage and sensory deprivation, and you're keen on safewords and aftercare, and you have an oral fixation? No no, none of that is bad, I'm just saying you might be autistic on top of a freak.