OFFER!/Squee/Inspiration for bloggers

First off: I have a first-come-first-served OFFER! I am offering two bargains to just one person each! Three monster sessions for £120 (was £160) or six sessions for £200 (was £300.) Contact me to get ‘em while they’re hot!

And secondly: it seems that people are actually talking about my blog on the internets! In a positive way!

The other day, a new client approached me because she’d found me via comments on Captain Awkward, who is this hilarious right-on, emotional-genius agony aunt who I LOVE. So obviously I was thrilled. And then today somebody pointed me at this, which has appeared SINCE then. Apparently my demographic overlaps with Captain Awkward’s quite a lot :D

(NB that there’s a picture of Atreyu at the top of the post, which is so meaningful to me it’s almost up there with Luke Skywalker, Mary Poppins and dogs.)

So that would be one complete stranger posting about how my blog helped them start talking to their own monsters and not going into guilt spirals, followed by two other complete strangers saying that they are all like, breaking huge long-held assumptions down and changing things around in their way of thinking because of my blog! And somebody also linked to Havi, which I’m so happy about because Havi is literally the entire reason this website exists, and if you like my blog your mind will be BLOWN by hers, trust me.

I was also thrilled to find that this very interesting complete stranger had been inspired by, and adopted, the word gendersilly from my blog!

So obviously I’m all squeeing and feeling good about myself, and there is a serious point here as well. (Wait, no. I think squeeing and feeling good about oneself is a profoundly magical and mystical thing that literally makes the world a better place, so it’s VERY serious in the most light and joyful way!! Anyway.) The other point is that, dude. People’s lives. Changing. Because of things I said.

I’m sure everyone assumed this was obvious to me and I knew it was happening, and I did on some level, but I’ve just realised it more profoundly and in a new way because epiphanies are stoopid.

The takeaway (nom!) for anyone who has a blog that they’re trying to use to, I don’t know, say important things or shine light into the world or help others, and who maybe doesn’t get all that many comments on that blog, is…

You are doing much more good than you know.

It’s worth keeping going. (Not ‘you have to keep going otherwise it will be your fault that all that good isn’t getting done.’ That’s just depressing and icky.) It is worth keeping going because, oh, I’m going to quote Superman. You are much stronger than you think you are. All these ripples that you can’t see are spreading out from what you do. Complete strangers, invisibly to you, are happier, or more aware, or seeing new perspectives, or doing things differently right now because of what you do. And those complete strangers are interacting with other complete strangers, who are catching the goodness from them. Maybe walking away just a mite happier than they otherwise would have, maybe changing their whole worldview. Who knows? It’s happening… The world is changing because of you. Sparks of light are rippling out and out beyond what you can see, lighting little stars all over the world… It is SO worth doing what you do. Okay? Believe me. :D

I would like to note that the tags for this post are ‘love and monsters’, which is the title of a really good Doctor Who episode, but then I’d have to add a ‘geek’ tag and that would spoil it. Oh, wait.

The Longer You Leave It The Harder It Gets

You know that phenomenon where the longer you leave something, the harder it gets to do… I thought I’d have a talk with that phenomenon. (My version of it, anyway. Other people’s may vary.) I’ll be calling it Longer for short. Longer for short!

Me: So it’s been a while and I still haven’t done this thing. I’d like to do it now, and it seems like you’re unhappy about that.

Longer: Yes! Just think how much that person must be suffering because you haven’t done that thing!

Me: Okay, I’m confused. I’m hearing that you’re very upset about the consequences of my not doing the thing.

Longer: Yes!!

Me: And yet you’d like me to carry on not doing the thing.

Longer: Yes! LOOK AT ALL THIS GUILT! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO CONFRONT ALL THIS GUILT?! DO YOU?!

Me: Wait, so you exist to protect me from guilt!

Longer: YES!

Me: When you started the conversation by saying, ‘Think how that person must be suffering,’ it sounded to me like you wanted me to feel very guilty. Were you just showing me how big and scary the guilt was so I’d run away from it?

Longer: YES YES YES! I make you run away so you won’t do the thing! Because if you do the thing now, that means YOU COULD HAVE DONE IT ALL ALONG!

Me: You’re protecting me from knowing I could have done it all along?

Longer: YES!

Me: Okay, knowing I could have done it all along seems quite empowering to me. Like, I’ve always been capable. Like Dorothy has always had the ruby slippers that could take her home.

Longer: If you know you could have done it all along, you have to face the GUILT of knowing you could have done it all along! AND YOU DIDN’T! Dorothy has been stuck in Oz all this time and all she had to do was click her heels together, what an idiot! Do you really think she’d be happy to find that out? It means all the pain she went through was unnecessary!

Me: No… Oh, wait. The guilt thing is just a smokescreen. You’re just waving guilt at me to scare me off the thing you’re really protecting me from. Regret.

(Longer, who has had no discernible form up till now, turns into a tall, skinny white bird.)

Bubulcus ibis(2)

Me: Did you just turn into an egret?

Longer: (nods)

Me: You’re a Regret Egret! That’s… inspired.

Regret Egret: You did it WRONG. You did it WRONG and you SHOULDN’T have done it wrong and you have to live with all the pain that you went through because you did it wrong, AND all the pain of knowing that you DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE PAIN!

Me: Oh. Sweetie. You just really hate to see me in pain.

Regret Egret: OF COURSE, WHAT DID YOU THINK? (childlike voice) I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO IT WRONG. I HATE IT I HATE IT.

Me: It sounds like you’re from then. From a long time ago.

Regret Egret: (almost in tears) BECAUSE I DON’T LIKE SEEING YOU TOLD OFF AND PUNISHED!

Me: Oh. Oh, wow, you’re right. When I was little, if I got punished, sometimes I’d pretend I was fine with it. I mean, even to myself. Like I didn’t want whatever they were taking away from me, or… anything rather than acknowledge that I was in pain because I did it wrong. That was you, wasn’t it?

Regret Egret: Yes!

Me: And as an adult, almost 30, I said something that completely shocked me when my friend repeated it back. Basically, that I didn’t want to learn from my mistakes. I preferred to go on making the same mistake over and over rather than admit defeat and learn my lesson. That was you too, huh?

Regret Egret: Yes!

Me: ‘Admit defeat’ like ‘let the people punishing me win’.

Regret Egret: YES!

Me: Even though now I’m an adult and nobody is punishing me, I’m just getting results that I don’t like. When I don’t do something I’ve committed to doing, I worry that other people are suffering and I feel upset and guilty, and that’s a result I don’t like.

Regret Egret: Consequences. The consequences of your actions. Can’t you FEEL the weight of doomy-parenty-teachery AARGH behind that phrase?

Me: Yes, absolutely! AAARGH!

Regret Egret: (finding this cathartic) AAAAARGH!

Me: I’m wondering… what were my parents and teachers trying to communicate when they talked about ‘the consequences of my actions’? What need of theirs were they trying to meet?

Regret Egret: For you to stop being such a nuisance.

Me: (smiles) I think we can go a step back to something more basic and less judgementy. How about the need to know that I could learn from my mistakes? Even though they were saying it in a doomy way, what they really wanted was to help me learn.

Regret Egret: They could have found a better way of saying it!!!

Me: They could, couldn’t they?! Like what… how would you say it better?

Regret Egret: Well, they could have said it how Havi says it! That there’s no ‘doing it wrong’ because it’s all an experiment and all results are useful! So if you get a result that you don’t like, you can be a scientist and go ‘hmm, useful’ and note it down and it gives you clarity. It helps you work out how to get results that you do like. So what we call ‘making mistakes’ is actually vital experimenting, it’s how we learn, I mean you might as well call it making discoveries!

Me: Exactly! Beautiful!

Regret Egret: WELL, WHY DIDN’T THEY JUST SAY IT LIKE THAT THEN?

Me: I guess because nobody had ever said it like that to them. Plus I was really little and they wanted to make it really big and loud and simple and ‘THIS IS DEFINITELY BAD’ to be sure I understood.

Regret Egret: Well, ouch.

Me: Yeah. Ouch for the whole world. Because pretty much everybody’s been brought up like that.

Regret Egret: I’m sorry!!

Me: It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay!

Regret Egret: Now I want to change but I’m still terrified of letting you suffer pain. I mean you’re my baby!

Me: I understand. It’s hard to let your baby grow up.

Regret Egret: So what do I do?!

Me: Well, the thing is -

Regret Egret: Is this the bit where you tell me I’m one of those monsters? Because I was wondering why we hadn’t got to that bit.

Me: (laughs) Maaaaybe. What do you think? You’ve been trying to protect me from regret, right? And -

Regret Egret: And OMG I’ve totally been keeping you in it, because I haven’t been letting you stop doing the things you regret! Or start doing the things you regret not doing! And I can distract you but I can’t stop the pain completely, I mean I can’t make you completely stuck AND make you completely oblivious to being stuck, so it’s always going to hurt! OH NO OH NO I HAD THOSE RUBY SLIPPERS ALL THIS TIME AND I DIDN’T USE THEM AND WE’VE BEEN STUCK IN OZ ALL THIS TIME!

Me: Hey. Hey. It’s okay. Because we’ve been in Oz, right? You don’t want to miss the journey. You don’t want to miss the adventure. If Dorothy had just landed in Oz, taken the slippers, clicked her heels and gone home, there wouldn’t be a story! Or there would, but it would be a very short one that wouldn’t really say anything. Not a book. Not an epic beautiful journey where people experience wild and wonderful things and face deadly terrors and learn and grow and go through transformations and find out things about themselves they never knew.

Regret Egret: (crying) You mean it’s all okay?

Me: Yes. Yes. It’s great that we’ve been on this journey. And it’s great that we’re going home.

Regret Egret: What do I do?

Me: Well, when I’m doing something – or more likely not-doing something – that produces results I don’t like – don’t protect me from experiencing the pain.

Regret Egret: WAAH!

Me: Wait, it’s okay. Instead of holding me back from my pain and my adventure, you can support me through it. Be by my side. Remind me that this is an experiment and there’s no doing it wrong, just results. Help me take a curious, scientific look at those results and see what I discover. And if I’m still hurting about what I did or didn’t do, let me go through mourning so I can learn from it and it’ll stop hurting. You know what NVC mourning is?

Regret Egret: When you don’t beat yourself up, you just let yourself be sad for yourself and all the ways you didn’t meet your own needs.

Me: Yes! No guilt, just compassion. Let me cry, and be with me while I cry. That’ll help a lot, actually. I’ve got a lot of mourning to do and it’ll really help to have someone with me who loves me like you do.

Regret Egret: (sniffs) Will it help if I wear a funny lab coat? And funny little glasses on my beak? (does so)

Me: (laughing and crying) Yes!! Look at you, you totally suit that! Now I think of it, you kind of looked like a tall skinny scientist in a white lab coat already!

Regret Egret: That’s because all monsters have the – have the – person they’re going to be inside them already. You know, the person they’re going to be when they’re not monsters any more.

Me: Yes!!

Regret Egret: Because secretly – that’s what we are. Already. Just with a monster suit over the top.

Me: YES YES YES! Look at you making scientific discoveries!

Regret Egret: Hmm! Useful!

Firework (aka ‘Going to bed willingly is for boring grown-ups.’)

Before we get into this monster talk, I need to explain that there’ve been some changes in my headcast. My beloved Mr. H has left us. I’m silent retreating on the reasons, but don’t worry, we’re all okay! After dragging my feet and avoiding the issue for like, months, it was time, and it felt right. And it seems that other members are stepping into the breach LIKE WHOA. As you’ll see. :)

You’d think a retiring headcast member would just dissolve back into me, but Mr. H was having none of that. He told me he wanted to go freelance. To go out into the world, travel into other people’s minds, and talk to other people’s monsters. So if you want a visit from him, just talk to him in your imagination, and see if he talks back… :)

(This monster believes that going to bed willingly is for boring grown-ups, and looks like a constantly moving, fireworky explosion of random colours. You can hear the hiss and crackle of sparks in her voice.)

Me: So, going to bed willingly is for boring grown-ups?

Firework: YES! It means either you’re an obedient sheep, or you’re so subhuman you don’t even need obedience. You belong to the vegetable kingdom, the fungus kingdom, the mould kingdom.

Me: Whoa! Sounds like you’re feeling really disgusted and angry because you need to know I have – what? Sovereignty? Power? Energy? I think your appearance is a clue, but I can’t quite find the right word.

Firework: FIRE! The spark of life and passion! Movement, colour, light! Everything you allow to be taken away from you when you surrender to bed and sleep!

Me: Wow, that’s really powerful. And it sounds like for you, going to bed is a massively unsovereign experience, an admission of defeat. Life surrendering to – well, to death, almost. Am I right?

Firework: YES! The eternal struggle of all life! The hero life against the villain death! And YOU are giving in! Allowing yourself to be shut away up there in the dark with the ghosts! DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT! Kick and scream! Burn and rage! Always, always!

Me: Oh… wow. I have so much empathy for you and I don’t know what to say. Backup!

(Big Sister shows up wearing Mr. H’s old leather jacket.)

Big Sister: Hi!

Me: Oh, hi!

Big Sister: So… Man, this is hard. Do you know what I’m thinking?

Me: I know exactly what you’re thinking.

Big Sister: I need a joke. This situation needs a joke and I can’t think of a single funny thing to say to save my life. Maybe we should get Little Sister.

Me: No way, this monster is exactly from when I was her age, it’d be her nemesis.

Big Sister: Well, she’s learned a lot -

(Little Sister skids onto the scene.)

Me: Hello!! Are you sure you want to be here? This one’s a bit scary.

Little Sister: Yes, this one won’t listen to grown-ups. Come here, firework.

(Firework floats and fizzles over to her, instantly all attention. They are the same height.)

Little Sister: You’re right, going to sleep is a lot like dying. It’s dark and scary and lonely and nothing-y. I understand. But that doesn’t mean that it IS dying! You know what? If people didn’t go to sleep, THEN they would die!!

Firework: But… I’m afraid if you don’t fight sleep then you won’t fight death, and evil, and oppression, and all those other bad things.

Little Sister: Well, I might not fight death. I mean, it depends. If I’m getting attacked by a big lion, or pushed over a cliff, or somebody is hitting me with a sword, THEN I’ll fight. But if I get to be very old and wise then I’ll probably just fade out peacefully in a cloud of sparkles like Yoda. I don’t think that’s bad.

Firework: No… I suppose that’s not bad.

Little Sister: And as for not fighting evil and oppression!! Look at me in my eyes and tell me that you think I won’t!!

(If a firework could hang its head, this one does.)

Firework: But it’s just… I’m really afraid of… What is a firework afraid of? Going out. Darkness. Silence. Stillness. I’m afraid of the dark.

Little Sister: So am I! I’m really, really, REALLY afraid of the dark!

Firework: Yes, because you and me…

Little Sister: Yes. But you know what else there is? You know what happens if you go THROUGH the dark? DREAMS! And you know what’s in dreams? Light! Colours! Noises! Movement! Fire! Life! More and more and more than there is when you’re awake! Don’t keep me away from it! When people don’t sleep enough, they don’t have enough dreams!

Firework: Oh. Oh. I can’t be one of those monsters? Taking away the very thing I want to give you? Giving you the very thing I want to protect you from?

Little Sister: I think everybody can be one of those monsters.

Firework: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! (flares up massively in a frenzy of sparks)

Little Sister: (running off and flattening herself against Big Sister’s legs) YIKES! Don’t do that! Sit!!

Firework: I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It’s just that this is life-and-death important!

Little Sister: You really want me to be brave, right? And fierce like a firework. And alive-alive-alive. And full of colours.

Firework: Yes!

Little Sister: Well, here’s what we can do. Here is the big brave thing that we can do. It’s very like a story. You go THROUGH the big dark door of sleep, PAST all the ghosts that are trying to scare you, and you come out in DREAMS! Wonderland! Neverland! Narnia! Fairyland! And you go and fly and swim in all the colours, and then you bring a piece of the magic world back with you! That’s what a hero does in a story! And that’s how we can bring more and more and more and more fireworks into the world! Do you want to do it?

Firework: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

Little Sister: Will I get burned if I hug you?

Firework: No!

(She steps into the light of the firework that is just her size, holds out her arms, and it becomes an aura of rainbow fire around her body, blazing and shooting off brilliant sparks that go singing out into the night. Big Sister and I instinctively drop to our knees before this brilliant child queen, and applaud.)

Speed Whippet talks to Fear of Finishing

(Trigger warning: very brief mention of suicide. Like, briefer than this warning.)

I do audio transcribing as a sideline, and while working on a piece today I ran into a familiar monster, Fear of Finishing. He’s a squat fuzzy monster with big eyes and little flaily arms. My urgency monsters said I had no time to talk to him.

I’ve been wanting to experiment with super-quick monster talks for a while, so I decided to bring in a new headcast member, Speed Whippet.

Grinning whippet face
Side note: After finding this picture of a whippet I was earwormed with ‘FOUND a picture of a WHIPpet, FOUND a picture of a WHIPpet,’ to the tune of  ‘Glory, Glory, Hallelujah’.

Speed Whippet talks very fast, sounds vaguely American, and today he’s borrowing an interview technique from Lady Vastra from ‘Doctor Who’.

Speed Whippet: Hi! Answer in one word, please! What are you observing?

Fear of Finishing: Danger!

Speed Whippet: How are you feeling?

Fear of Finishing: Scared!

Speed Whippet: What do you need?

Fear of Finishing: Respite!

Speed Whippet: What are you requesting?

Fear of Finishing: STOP!

Speed Whippet: What happens if she doesn’t stop?

Fear of Finishing: Doom!

Speed Whippet: What kinda doom?

Fear of Finishing: Pressure!

Speed Whippet: Pressure to do what?

Fear of Finishing: Deliver! (jumps up and down) Mfff mfff!

Speed Whippet: You got some more to say there?

Fear of Finishing: Be a grown-up!

Speed Whippet: Pressure to deliver and be a grown-up?

Fear of Finishing: Yes!

Speed Whippet: What would happen if she did deliver and be a grown-up? Don’t say ‘doom’.

Fear of Finishing: Death!

Speed Whippet: Like, she wouldn’t be her any more?

Fear of Finishing: Yes! Mmmfff mmffff!

Speed Whippet: And?

Fear of Finishing: Or!

Speed Whippet: Or?

Fear of Finishing: Karoshi!

Speed Whippet: Death by overwork?

Fear of Finishing: Yes!

Speed Whippet: Okay, and what if she didn’t deliver and be a grown-up?

Fear of Finishing: Doom! Death! Shame! Regret!

Speed Whippet: Death as in death by starvation?

Fear of Finishing: Or!

Speed Whippet: Or?

Fear of Finishing: Suicide!

Speed Whippet: Wow. Really?!

Fear of Finishing: Uh…

Speed Whippet: You know she’s a lot happier now, right?

Fear of Finishing: (relaxing somewhat) Yeah.

Speed Whippet: Okay, speed rundown! You’re scared that if she finishes this work there’ll be pressure to finish ALL THE WORK and she’ll die of overwork. Or lose herself and die inside. Or fail and die of hunger and shame.

Fear of Finishing: YES!!

Speed Whippet: So you want her to not finish so nobody will think she’s capable and there’ll be no pressure.

Fear of Finishing: YES!!

Speed Whippet: Trouble is that when you stop her finishing work, she’s stuck in work. Constant work. And hunger and shame. And losing herself. All the things you want to protect her from.

Fear of Finishing: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

Speed Whippet: Wanna hear some different possibilities?

Fear of Finishing: Please!!

Speed Whippet: What if there wasn’t pressure?

Fear of Finishing: Huh?!

Speed Whippet: Has this client put any pressure on her, even when she delivered really late?

Fear of Finishing: None!

Speed Whippet: And what if there was pressure, and she could be sovereign about it?

Fear of Finishing: Huh?

Speed Whippet: Like, ‘Oh, somebody is trying to pressure me. That’s their stuff. My stuff is coming up in response. Hello, my stuff. Let’s make a sovereign choice about what to do here because I am the king or queen of my life.’

Fear of Finishing: Wow!!

Speed Whippet: You think she could do that?

Fear of Finishing: Dunno!

Speed Whippet: Willing to let her try? As an experiment?

Fear of Finishing: Eek!

Speed Whippet: What do you need to feel safe?

Fear of Finishing: Protection!

Speed Whippet: What kind of protection?

Fear of Finishing: Um…

Speed Whippet: Protection for you, or protection for her?

Fear of Finishing: Her!

Speed Whippet: But you don’t know what kind?

Fear of Finishing: Openness!

Speed Whippet: You want her to be open with people when she’s finding things difficult? Like if she’s stuck on a piece of work, email her client and say, ‘Hello, I have this stuckness right now and this is what it means for you’?

Fear of Finishing: And!

Speed Whippet: And maybe warn people in advance if she thinks she might find a task difficult, and let them decide whether to trust her with it?

Fear of Finishing: Yes!!

Speed Whippet: Anything else?

Fear of Finishing: Life-preserver!

Speed Whippet: Like a cheery red and white rubber ring that she can wear to keep her afloat when there’s death/doom stuff coming up?

Fear of Finishing: (joyfully bouncing up and down) YES YES YES!

Speed Whippet: Would you like to give one to her?

Fear of Finishing: Yes!

Speed Whippet: Then go ahead!

(Fear of Finishing delightedly hands me a life preserver. Hugs and mild tearfulness ensue.)

Speed Whippet: All in a day’s work for SPEED WHIPPET! (dashes off)

(NB. I proceeded to share this conversation with my client, followed 40 minutes later by the finished work.)

Compulsions! They look like mogwai from Gremlins.

I’m trying to get over an internet addiction (yes, monsters, I am allowed to tell people that I have an internet addiction even though I also have difficulty replying to emails) and part of what I’m trying to do is not feed my compulsions. That is, not check the internet at the moment I get a compulsive urge to do it, because that teaches my brain that compulsions get rewarded so there should be lots of them.

So obviously, the concept of lots of proliferating things that one shouldn’t feed led me to characterise my compulsions as mogwai. You know, the fluffy little things that multiply if you get them wet and turn into gremlins if you feed them after midnight. (Actually, feeding my compulsions after midnight is a PARTICULAR problem for me.)

3 mogwai

Apparently these three are called Mohawk, George and Lenny, so that’s what we’ll call them.

I thought rather than just forcibly starve these little furballs, I’d better get their point of view and find out what they’re really trying to tell me.

(Compulsions roll into the room, squeaking, chattering and showing lots of sharp teeth.)

Compulsions: FEED US! FEED US! NOM NOM NOM!

Me: Hi, compulsions! Sounds like you’re really hungry for something.

Compulsions: EMAIL EMAIL (actually giving me a compulsion to check email)

Me: What needs does email meet for you?

Compulsions: EMAIL EMAIL EMAIL EMAIL

Me: (smiles) Okay, how does getting to check email feel for you? What kind of good things are you getting from it?

Mohawk: No uncertainty!

George: Relief!

Lenny: Knowing! CHECK EMAIL NOW BY THE WAY.

Me: I was expecting to hear something like ‘attention’ or ‘love’ or ‘validation’ -

Compulsions: ATTENTION ATTENTION

Me: Okay, so that’s a need that email meets for you too?

Mohawk: Yeah but – even if you check and there’s nothing, at least you KNOW you HAVEN’T got attention.

George: Otherwise SOMEBODY COULD BE PAYING YOU ATTENTION AND YOU WOULDN’T KNOW! AAARGH!!!

Lenny: CHECK EMAIL NOW

George: Worse! Somebody could NEED YOUR ATTENTION! AND! YOU! WOULDN’T! KNOW!

Compulsions: AAAAAAARGH!!!!! EEK EEK EEK!

Lenny: CHECK EMAIL NOOOOOWWWWW

Me: I’ll check email as soon as we’ve finished this talk, okay? Deal?

(All compulsions immediately clamp their hands over their mouths, ‘speak no evil’ style. Total silence.)

Me: I don’t mean just stop talking right now! I mean as soon as we’ve finished this talk. Do you get what it means to finish this talk?

Mohawk: To reach an agreement!

George: Yeah!

Lenny: For all of us to be happy!

George: Yeah!

Me: That works. (smiles) Are you willing to wait till that point for me to check email?

Compulsions: Eeeeerrrr….. Maybe?

Me: Okay, thank you. Let’s start talking and if it gets too difficult for you to wait, you can tell me.

Compulsions: IT’S TOO DIFFICULT FOR US TO WAIT!

Me: (laughing) Fine, I’ll check email and then we’ll finish the conversation, okay?

Compulsions: (jumping up and down) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

Me: (checks email) Nothing there but spam and people trying to write a punk Hamlet filk. Happy now?

Compulsions: (slightly unsure) Yeeeees….

Me: Any problems?

Mohawk: We are disappointed that there wasn’t email from that one person!

Me: I hear you. I get that you’re feeling disappointed. I’d just like to remind you that it’s not even 9am for her and she has a lot to think about right now, and that I know she loves me very much and I don’t need an email to prove it.

Lenny: CHECK EMAIL CHECK EMAIL. Look! You can see you’ve just received another email! CHECK IT CHECK IT!

Me: Okay, I’m not willing to do that right now because I’m feeling really concerned about how frustrated and anxious you seem and how you can’t rest for even a minute without needing me to check email.

George: We’re also disappointed that you didn’t get distracted. Then we could rest.

Me: Huh?

George: When you’re connected to the internet, it’s like uh – an umbilicus! Or a baby bottle. Being constantly fed. So we can rest.

Lenny: Nom nom nom nom nom nom nom… WANT NOMS!

Me: And what is it that you’re being constantly fed?

Mohawk: Internets!

Me: What does the internets contain?

Mohawk: Caffeine!

Me: (laughing) Okay, everyone knows the internet contains caffeine! What does that mean for you, does it energise you, keep you awake?

George: AAARGH, you got another email!

Lenny: CHECK IT CHECK IT!!

Me: Fine, I’ll check it… There, nothing important. So what’s this about caffeine?

Mohawk: A way to avoid sleep! Not just that, but a way to not need rest!

Me: Because while I’m surfing the internet, I’m in a state that’s sort-of-restful but not so embarrassingly obviously restful as, say, having a lie down?

George: Yeah!

Me: So I don’t need to deal with the fact that I need rest?

George: Yeah!

Me: Thing is, surfing the internet isn’t adequately meeting my rest needs. It’s like living on rice or porridge, you get to a point where you can stuff and stuff and stuff on it and you’re still constantly hungry because you’re not getting any vitamins or protein. Anyway, why are you protecting me from needing rest?

Compulsions: Uh….

Me: You don’t know?

Mohawk: Because you seem to get upset when you need rest. We don’t really know why.

Me: Actually, I’ve made a lot of progress in that area recently, and I’m going to be talking to my rest monsters some more today. I can handle this, I don’t need you to protect me from needing rest. Besides, constantly being online actually puts me in a state of constantly needing rest.

George: Oh no, we’re those kinds of monsters?

Me: Yeah, your protecting me from needing rest is leading to me needing a lot of rest.

Compulsions: SORRY SORRY SORRY!

Me: It’s okay! I get the feeling that there’s more to you than that, though. What else does the internet contain?

Lenny: Not having to think. Whatever you’re in pain about, you don’t have to think about it when you’re online.

Me: What if I’m in pain about being online?

Lenny: Make candybar dolls! [An online game.] That will even numb the pain of being in pain about being online!

Me: This is kind of like the drunkard in ‘The Little Prince’ who drank to forget that he was ashamed of drinking.

Lenny: Well, it’s a reasonable strategy.

Me: The thing is that a lot of my pain comes from not doing things, and a lot of my not-doing-things comes from being online. So your protecting me from being in pain is leading to a lot more pain.

Lenny: THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE TO BE ONLINE ALL THE TIME SO YOU CAN IGNORE IT!!!

Me: I can tell that you’re really concerned about this. The thing is that I’m not able to ignore it all the time. It still hurts. And if I get offline and face a little bit of pain in the short term, I can have a lot less pain in the long term.

Compulsions: WHAT IS THIS LONG TERM OF WHICH YOU SPEAK!

Me: It’s the short term tomorrow. It’s right now in five minutes. Or a week. Or a year.

Compulsions: DOES NOT COMPUTE… DOES NOT COMPUTE…

Lenny: YOU GOT ANOTHER EMAIL, CHECK IT!!

Me: (does so) Still just talking about Hamlet filks. I’m getting that you are not long-term creatures. You need a need to be met NOW, always.

Compulsions: YES YES YES!

Me: And right now it seems that the things you want for me are rest (of a kind that doesn’t upset me) and relief from pain. So maybe when I have a compulsion I could try meditating or praying.

Mohawk: BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ATTENTION! And the play! WHAT ABOUT THE PLAY!

Lenny: YOU GOT ANOTHER ONE CHECK IT CHECK IT

Me: Okay, I’m checking this one, but then let’s not check any more for five minutes so we can sort this out sooner. Okay?

Lenny: NO YOU HAVE TO CHECK ALL OF THEM OR WE’RE NOT TALKING.

Me: I’m feeling uncomfortable and frustrated about that because I need to know I have some sovereignty here.

Lenny:… Fine, five minutes.

Me: Thank you! So, attention and play?

Mohawk: Yes, internetting is a form of rest-play. It’s something you can do that’s not ‘because you should’.

Me: Right, so you also want me to experience play and freedom from shoulds. So when I get a compulsion I could also try goofing off in another way. Doodling on my whiteboard perhaps.

George: Oh, HOURS OF FUN. Why don’t you just play with a jack-in-the box? Open the box… shut the box. Open the box… shut the box. WHAT FUN!!!

Me: I’m hearing that you don’t find non-internetty things any fun!

George: I’ll admit that they could be fun, but where else can you find such infinite variety of input?

Me: In my own mind.

George: Okay, then do a proper creative project, but with permission to do it badly or not finish it. Or make stuff up in your head. Something you actually WANT to do, not some fake displacementy boring thing. Or read something or watch something.

Me: You’d be happy for me to do that? Because I’ve just realised that my internet addiction means I don’t have time to play properly! To do things I really WANT to do!

George: I’d be happy for you to do that sometimes, but not all the time because there’s still the attention thing.

Me: Thank you!! Okay, the attention thing. It seems like you’re really keen for my attention needs to be met, and for me to meet the attention needs of others.

Compulsions: YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

Lenny: BY THE WAY CHECK EMAIL

Me: Okay… I’m confused. You’re obviously genuinely very concerned about this attention thing, and yet I’m noticing that even with all this time online, I’m still way behind on replying to most of my emails. In fact, I could have replied to a lot more if I hadn’t been so busy compulsively surfing, checking, and re-reading existing emails. It seems like you really care about me checking, but not so much about me replying?

Compulsions: Uuuuhhhhh…

Lenny: CHECK THE FLOOP

Me: (does so) Oh, I got comments. That feels good because now I know that people care.

Mohawk: This is the point! To know that people care!

Me: Are you feeling worried that I don’t know I’m loved? That I need reminding?

Mohawk: WELL, CLEARLY.

Me: So if I can find other ways to remind myself that I’m loved, and to give myself love, will that help with the need to check?

Mohawk: Not really because there’s still OTHER PEOPLE’S attention needs and what if there’s a crisis? WHAT IF THERE’S A CRISIS? What if someone you love is crying and heartbroken because YOU WEREN’T THERE WHEN YOU WERE NEEDED?

George: You see, every second you’re not checking email, THAT COULD BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!

Lenny: Every second you’re not checking, YOU COULD BE MAKING SOMEONE CRY! EVERY SECOND!

Me: You all sound really freaked out and panicked.

Compulsions: YES YES YES YES YES!

Me: You all want a cuddle?

Compulsions: AAAAAAAAH (diving on me)

Me: (cuddling the compulsion pile) Okay, guys. It’s okay. This is from then. This is from a time when someone genuinely did want my attention every second. That is not happening now. None of the friends I have now would want me to be constantly tied to the internet looking after them, they want me to have my own life, even if that means they sometimes spend some time crying because I wasn’t online.

Mohawk: …For reals?!?!

Me: Yes, for reals!

Mohawk: BUT YOU WOULD STILL BE SO GUILTY! Even if they didn’t mind, YOU would mind!!

Me: Sounds like you’re desperate to protect me from guilt.

Compulsions: YES YES YES YES! And sadness! Sadness for other people’s pain!

Me: You really suffered back then, didn’t you? You don’t ever want to feel that bad again.

Compulsions: YES WE DID! NO WE DON’T!

Me: Would it help if I told you that things are very different now because I have more sovereignty, and I would never allow myself to get into that bad a guilt situation now? Because I know I’m not responsible for the happiness of others.

Compulsions: Huh?!

Me: Yeah, I always had a choice. I could have ALWAYS said, ‘Hey, it’s not okay to expect myself to give attention every second. I don’t need to feel guilty for not doing that.’ I could have ALWAYS said, ‘I’m not willing to give you attention every second, can we talk about other ways to meet your needs?’ It was always between me and me! It was my guilt about my relationship with me and I don’t have to have that guilt any more!

Compulsions: Whoa. Um… whoa.

(They huddle together and talk compulsion language for a few seconds.)

Mohawk: Okay. We’re willing to try to stop pushing you so hard to check email, but only if you’re willing to try to stop guilting yourself, because we feel awful when you do that.

Me: Wow, thank you! I’m definitely willing. And you can help.

Mohawk: How?

Me: When you feel like talking to me, talk to me. But instead of saying ‘CHECK EMAIL CHECK EMAIL’ tell me all the qualities you want for me, like – what’s the opposite of guilt?

Mohawk: Permission!

George: Sovereignty!

Lenny: A clear conscience!

Me: All good! And what are those other qualities you were talking about?

Mohawk: Rest!

George: Play!

Lenny: Comfort!

Mohawk: Freedom!

George: Attention!

Lenny: Love!

Me: All things I would love to be reminded to give myself. So are you up for that? When you feel like talking to me, are you willing to shout those qualities in my ear?

Compulsions: (bouncing up and down) YES YES YES YES!

Me: Thank you!

(group hug)

BY THE WAY, EVERYBODY – HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Bilbo and the Blue It’s Too Late Monster

This is a chatlog of a monster talk I did with a client who’s also a dear friend. They were very keen for me to post this, and chose the pseudonym ‘Bilbo’ for reasons that will become apparent (and unintentionally hilarious when I quote LOTR at one point.)

Bilbo has been dealing with chronic illness for many years, and is now dealing with the possibility of getting better and being able to have a career. Which sounds (and is) wonderful, except that here be monsters…

Bilbo: This is the monster that makes me panic so much about how much I haven’t got done in my life yet and how it is slipping away and how there is absolutely no chance that I can achieve or do anything real now.
It’s a “what’s the point”? type monster, as far as I can make out.
But above all, it’s an “it’s too late” monster.

me: oh <3333 empathy

Bilbo: Yeah. It took me a while to burrow down this far, if that makes sense, but this is one of the Big Bads for me.

me: that does make sense! I find a lot of the time I deal with one monster and there’s another lurking underneath
monster layers!
and yes, I can understand that

Bilbo: Definitely!

me: do you want to tell me a bit more about it?

Bilbo: I don’t feel I know much about it yet – frankly it’s a very, very intimidating monster! But it’s also kind of slippery. Impervious.
It doesn’t attack me, as such, it looms over me and steals all the air from the room.

me: eurgh

Bilbo: It’s very tall, and very thin, and has a cloak. And is, oddly, blue.
Oh, and I do know that a lot of its Stuff comes from my Dad. Who was very much into this idea that if you didn’t begin the day right you couldn’t ever get it back.
(Frankly he seemed to imply a lot that if you didn’t begin the day right you couldn’t get any day back, but I did at least manage to break that slightly.)

me: ugh, ugh, I feel for you having to grow up with THAT

Bilbo: *hugs* Thank you!

me: and well done for breaking it, even slightly
you know, that was a monster of HIS talking!!

Bilbo: Oh, yes, that’s true!
Damn. Monsters are contagious! :-(

me: I only just realised that myself and it’s SO true
*hugs*

Bilbo: *hugs* too
Oh, something else about this monster – it looks sad.

me: oh!
<3

Bilbo: Not angry, just… sad. Disappointed. But you know that “grown-up” negativity that is actually really oppressive, that regards optimism and positivity as childish and unrealistic etc.? That.
That kind of disappointment that absolutely refuses to let other people not be disappointed too.

me: aaargh
yes
okay

Bilbo: It’s not quite the same, but it reminds me of a time I played piano in a music concert when I was, I don’t know, 7 or 8 or so? And I didn’t do brilliantly, but I did my best, and I got a really nice round of applause. And my Dad had been page-turning and helped me off-stage and all he said was, “oh, never mind”. In a really, really kind way, and he clearly thought he was being lovely. But it was crushing because he was telling me I’d done badly.

me: argh!
oh, you must have been completely gutted

Bilbo: I was. :-( It’s weird how much that still hurts!

me: ouch, ouch
not weird at all!
your creativity is so essential to your being, music especially
and his approval for something SO fundamental to you must have meant SO much

Bilbo: Yes! Also, he didn’t let me enjoy even for a minute the fact that I’d made it through to the end of the piece even though it was, in retrospect, too hard for me.

me: ugh, horrible

Bilbo: If he’d told me later on that he thought I could do better than that and he’d help me to practise more next time? That would have been absolutely fine.

me: yes <3
I think most people intuitively get that children need support for their creativity even more than adults (and you know how much adults do!) and give them that little bit of applause however well they’ve done

Bilbo: Yeah, exactly. Which is what the people applauding me were doing! They could all see that I was struggling, and they felt for me and were applauding my being brave and keeping on going even though I was under-rehearsed.
Just thought of something else: it was him choosing what he thought my emotional response should be. (Which my parents both did so much, and my Mum still tries to do with everyone.)

me: ugh, yuck
so, you really, really didn’t get a lot of empathy as a child

Bilbo:  Yeah, really not. :-(

me: I’m so impressed that you’ve ended up with such a gift for giving empathy to others

Bilbo: *hugs* Thank you. <3 blushes rather
I think that’s all I can thnk of about my “It’s Too Late” monster right now.

(Here we did conscious entry)

me: if you’d like a safe room (or knowing you, the top of a safe mountain) to be in while I talk to this monster, that can be arranged
or if your monster is ready to come forward now, I’m ready to talk to it <3

Bilbo: I think so. I’d like a sheltered hollow on top of a Scottish hill, with a wonderful view of the sea, and sheltered enough to be able to play my uke and guitar and turn the pages of music books without them blowing away. :-)

me: wonderful :) I see you need no prompting there :)

Bilbo: :)
exhales, a little panicky but okay
My monster is not just ready but very eager to come forward.
(And barged past me… hmph.)

me: (oh!! <3)
hello, monster :) let’s talk

It’s Too Late: Hi.

me: so it seems like you’re really eager to talk to me
is there something particular you want to say?

It’s Too Late: Bilbo never listens.
They keep thinking there are things they can do, even though they’ve wasted most of their life so far.
I am hoping that you will listen to me.

me: I’m absolutely listening
I know it’s really, really important to you to be heard

It’s Too Late: .. Thank you.

me: you’re welcome <3

It’s Too Late: I’m not sure what I want to say now. Except that I feel betrayed by Bilbo.
They are horrible to me.

me: sounds like you’re very, very angry

It’s Too Late: I’m mostly just miserable.
But Bilbo makes me angry as well by brushing me aside and not listening to me.

me: oh, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re miserable
and it’s totally understandable when you have such a painful relationship with the person you love and exist for

It’s Too Late: They don’t listen! They keep trying and trying and trying to get better and to do things and they won’t listen to me when I tell them that there’s no point when it’s too late now for us to do anything!

me: you must be terribly frustrated

It’s Too Late: We lost our childhood to abuse and bullying, and all our adult life so far to illness.
I am!

me: *nods*

It’s Too Late: There is no possible way that things can change now, and every time Bilbo decides to try more it makes me so angry and upset.

me: why is that – what are you afraid will happen to them if they keep trying?

It’s Too Late: I don’t feel loving towards Bilbo. :-( All I feel is this enormous hole full of grief that they won’t acknowledge or pay attention to.
They are trying to make our story have a happy ending, and it’s not possible! No story starts like ours and has a happy ending.
No one would even bother to tell a story like ours. Happy endings are for people who do things when they’re young and keep on doing them.

me: oh – you need acknowledgement for your loss? For their loss – right?

It’s Too Late: Yes yes yes!
They are determined to have this happy life, and that’s all well and good but are so damned positive and chirpy about it and they won’t notice that their childhood was ruined and their adult life has been ruined and there’s no hope of it changing.

me: you need to know that Bilbo is mourning with you, because you don’t want to cry alone?

It’s Too Late: Yes! Oh Gods, yes!
But I think they are afraid that if they start mourning they will slide into depression and never come out again.
So I can see why they don’t want to acknowledge the loss.
But I am still depressed. And I’m upset that they aren’t too.

me: I understand

It’s Too Late: But Bilbo mourning the loss too wouldn’t help that much.

me: why not?

It’s Too Late: Because it’s still far, far too late for them. For us.
Because there’s no point to anything in their life because they didn’t achieve anything when they were younger, and because their life has been ruined.

me: so basically, you just want Bilbo to be here with you at the end of all things

It’s Too Late: I suppose so.
I want them to stop trying to escape.
I want them to stop trying. Trying to be nice. Trying to be positive. Trying to act like they have a life that’s worth anything and that can ever be worth anything.
*flaps cloak around in frustration*

me: okay, just assuming for the moment that you’re right and Bilbo’s life will never be worth anything – what happens if they keep trying?

It’s Too Late: They will never notice what’s happened to them. And I will be all alone!!
You were right earlier. I… I want to not be on my own anymore.
I want Bilbo to understand how much pain I’m in.

me: it sounds like you need empathy <3

It’s Too Late: Yes.

me: like all those years when Bilbo needed empathy and wasn’t getting it

It’s Too Late: Yes.

me: and for Bilbo to give you empathy for your pain, you believe they would also have to be *in* your pain

It’s Too Late: Yes!

me: which is incompatible with seeing hope and trying

It’s Too Late: I want them and me to understand each other, and instead they are going further and further away from me!
I’m supposed to know everything about them. I do know everything about them.
If they keep hoping and trying and changing, I won’t know them anymore and they’ll be even further from understanding what it is I’m feeling.
They are running away from me and I’m so scared!

me: sending you so much love for the fear

It’s Too Late: Thank you.

me: the thing is, Bilbo has tremendous compassion
they can understand someone’s pain, and feel compassion for them, and be with them and even cry with them, without also taking on that person’s stuff and making it their own stuff
and maybe, just maybe, they can do that for you too

It’s Too Late: Then why haven’t they already?

me: they don’t respond well to fear-based motivation

It’s Too Late: They want to not even acknowledge that we share this horrible history of pain!

me: which is totally understandable because well, it’s a horrible history
and what you seem to be doing is emphasising just how horrible that is, in the hopes that if you make the horribleness big and loud and in-their-face enough, they can’t fail to respond
the thing is that when things are big and loud and in their face, they respond by protecting themselves, just like most people would
the more scariness you’re sending their way, the less they want to interact with you or acknowledge you

It’s Too Late: But I’m scared!
They keep wanting to achieve more with their life!
It’s terrifying!
They’re breaking the story!

me: why is it terrifying, what are you afraid will happen?
how is the story supposed to go?

It’s Too Late: They… argh.
The story goes that they had an abusive childhood, and were bullied at school. They achieved some things despite that, but then they became ill.

me: *nods*

It’s Too Late: And that’s it. The story has to end there, or it carries on with them continuing to be ill. Dying loved and pitied but … but what it can’t do is suddenly change in their early-mid thirties into a totally different story!
They can’t just turn around in their mid-thirties and achieve things!

me: oh, right!

It’s Too Late: Things… people… stories… life doesn’t work like that!
It’s impossible!

me: so, wait
you’re actually afraid that Bilbo is right?
that they *can* achieve things, and that this will just make the story unreadably weird, like if the consumptive Victorian woobie got up in the middle and started driving the plot?

It’s Too Late: Yes!
There’ll be no… no guidelines! No rules! No plot! It will be chaos.
I won’t know how to help them with that!
They won’t know what to do, and they’ll never be able to explain to people the story of their life because it won’t make sense!
I’m… oh Gods.
I think I’m Bilbo’s writer.

me: oh! oh, wow. <3

It’s Too Late: It’s not good! I’ve been lumbered with this horrible story, but at least I can make it consistent!
They’re trying to run away from everything I can set up for them.
It was bad enough when they got a boyfriend, I could make things fit that. But… but to suddenly decide to be and become a successful folk singer? In their mid-30s? And then, what, adopt a child in their mid-40s? Argh! It’s chaos!

me: I so empathise with how scary it is when your story takes on a life of its own

It’s Too Late: And there’ll be this huge big hole in their twenties, and… and if they get better and start enjoying life then they’ll have to face up to that huge big hole, and all the horrible bits of their childhood, and look back at them as this blank space, and it will make them utterly miserable!
And, and I know I’m not being consistent and argh!
It is scary, yes. Thank you for empathising.

me: you’re welcome, and you don’t have to be consistent <3

It’s Too Late: I don’t want them to be a middle-aged person and achieving all these things and then looking back at the first 34-odd years of their life as a waste.

me: of course you don’t want that for them, I understand

It’s Too Late: But… but if their whole life is like that, then, well. That’s just a tragedy. Not a mess.
A tragedy I can deal with! I can help them with a tragedy, I understand it!

me: yes, because then… they clearly couldn’t help it, right??

It’s Too Late: Yes!
And at least it would be a good story!
This… all this changing when they’re far too old to be the hero of their own book anyway.
Maybe if they left it ’til they were 70 or so it could be a different sort of book.

me: oh, that
I’ve been sensing that floating around the edges of the conversation

It’s Too Late: But no one goes from zero to adventures at 34.
Okay, apart from hobbits.

me: you read my mind
hobbits, though!

It’s Too Late: But Frodo was the equivalent of 21! I’ll concede Bilbo though, since 50 works out as around 30s for hobbits.

me: I was going to say, Bilbo

It’s Too Late: But.. argh.
See, that’s an appealing thread. It makes some sense.
But it’s one story against all of the others that are piled up against anything happening for people in their 30s unless the things in question started a lot earlier.
Also, how is Bilbo going to explain the huge gap as a folk musician? There are professionals half their age. It’s terrifying. They’re going to be told they’re too old.

me: TROPES! We have a problem with Real Life Tropes!

It’s Too Late: … Oh. Yeah, I guess.

me: there are a lot of Real Life Tropes that say achievement can’t start in your 30s

It’s Too Late: I think… well.
I brought Bilbo up.
I, books, stories.

me: oh, wow
yes, yes

It’s Too Late: Their parents were so neglectful in so many ways. They never taught them the things they needed to know.
I’ve looked after them as best I could, even though I’m just a hack writer.
But they’re a real person, and it’s HARD!

me: oh, SO MUCH EMPATHY FOR YOUR HARD!

It’s Too Late: And I can’t help them or look after them or guard them or explain to them what they need to do when none of the stories cover where they are going now!
I can’t do this!
And if I can’t do it, who is going to look after Bilbo?!

me: Bilbo
and their gods

It’s Too Late: cries
But what if that’s not enough?
I have to look after them! I need them, and they need me!
What if I stop protecting and hemming them in, and they need me and they’re too far for me to reach!

me: Bilbo will always need stories
and stories will always be part of them
but to be hemmed in – by stories?
the fact that you even chose that word tells me that you’re starting to see it differently

It’s Too Late: I think I am.

me: :) can you tell me what you’re seeing now?

It’s Too Late: I think… I think I have to let Bilbo write the story.

me: I think that is the most bloody awesome idea ever <3

It’s Too Late: And/or I have to let Bilbo be free and lead their life, and then I write that, rather than, well, writing their life and making them follow what I’ve already written.
But then, what’s my purpose?

me: you’re the writer
you are the one the character brushes past and whispers ‘Take this down’

It’s Too Late: And, well, they haven’t done much writing over their adulthood? Probably because I’ve not let them… argh. :(

me: this isn’t just about literally writing
it’s about stories
if you prefer, you’re the storyteller

It’s Too Late: We have to make a new story together. They and me.

me: yes
yes :)

It’s Too Late: I don’t know if I’m good enough for this. :-S
I… I really do have to try though, don’t I?

me: yes!
this is the great thing about stories!

It’s Too Late: Oh.

me: when you let them tell themselves
that’s when it gets good!

It’s Too Late: This is the whole writing thing, isn’t it? The whole craft thing generally.

me: yes <3

It’s Too Late: You keep going at it, and if it’s shit you keep going and then you write/make/sing/invent more and more and more because the more you do it, the better you’ll get at it.
I’ve been writing Bilbo the wrong story to be in.
And I’ve not let them write their own.
So we’re both actually pretty inexperienced for this.
But… but we have to try. We really do have to try.

me: and there is time, for both of you, and yes

It’s Too Late: I would like them to acknowledge more fully how much grief we both have for their childhood and the first part of their adulthood, though.
I think that would help. Not so much with the story but, well.
Because I was writing it so I got more and more and more distressed by it.
Can I help them to mourn, but without depressing them in a bad way?

me: yes, absolutely
I think mourning and depression are almost opposite
mourning is processing pain, letting it flow through your system
depression is when you’re stuck in pain and pain is stuck in you

It’s Too Late: *nods* That makes sense.
Yes.
Gosh, I really am very scared. Bilbo and I are trying to write a totally new story, with a plot that no one else seems to write!
I think I’d better let them take the lead. I think that way I won’t obstruct them.
But maybe I can help with some of the fine detail.

me: I think that’s a wonderful idea, and yes

It’s Too Late: I… this may be an odd request, but can I talk to your Mr H?
It’s just that he seems to really know a lot about stories.

me: yes!! he would love to, hold on

It’s Too Late: Thank you. :-)

Mr. H: hey there :D it’s me

It’s Too Late: Hi!

Mr. H: so you wanna talk about stories?
ask me anything

It’s Too Late: OMG how do you cope with being a story-person who lives in the head of a real person? It’s so hard!
I’m starting to realise that I may not actually be a monster at all.
How do you stop the tropes from getting in the way of the real story?

Mr. H: I just keep reminding myself and her that I’m part of her

It’s Too Late: *nods* Trouble is, I’ve been controlling Bilbo far too much. I need to know how to let go of that, but still support them and… well, I’m kind of stumped.

Mr. H: what I do is sense when I’m needed and show up

It’s Too Late: nods
I’ve done a lot of advising Bilbo over the years.
When things in real life are similar to stories, I’m usually quite good at advising them.
But when there’s a difference, I get terrified.

Mr. H: right, so that’s when you need to show up, when there’s story-stuff going on
when you can motivate Bilbo by saying guess what, ring, fire, go!

It’s Too Late: So… so I guess I need to learn to tell when this is something I can help with, and when it’s something that actually Bilbo can teach me about, or someone else in their head-cast can teach us both!
Haha, yes!

Mr. H: yes!
this is why we exist, see, because real (you know, THAT kind of real) people need a multiplicity of viewpoints

It’s Too Late: Ahh, yes.

Mr. H: and when you’re terrified… that probably means it’s time for you to curl up in stories and let another part of Bilbo take over
not because you’re lesser, not because you’re weak
because what we are doing here.. is TEAMWORK :D
you know, it’s like acting!
ensemble show!

It’s Too Late: That makes sense!
Or ensemble cast – most of mine and Bilbo’s favourite books have huge casts in them.
Ensemble fantasy novel casts, I mean.

Mr. H: yes, I get it

It’s Too Late: Thank you so much, Mr H, this is really helpful. :-)

Mr. H: you’re welcome, I’m loving this too!
anything else you’d like to know? I like to talk

It’s Too Late: :-)
I’m actually thinking that I probably need a new name.
I’ve also noticed that I seem to have shrunk, and I’m no longer 7ft tall. This is probably a good thing!

Mr. H: yes

It’s Too Late: I’ve been the “It’s Too Late” monster, and… no.
It isn’t too late, and I’m not a monster.
I also think that I should stop just being blue all the time.
Blue is a nice colour, but so are lots of other colours!

Mr. H: YEAH!
oh, yeah
you have literally been blue all the time
and there are lots of other colours

It’s Too Late: Yep.
Now, obviously I need to be careful, because beings that have just been one perfectly nice colour suddenly becoming so-and-so-of-many-colours tends to go badly. ;-)

Mr. H: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
aw, man… you made my eyes water with laughter

It’s Too Late: I’m the Storytellers.
:-)

Mr. H: plural
YES
beautiful

Storytellers: Good grief, that was a misprint, but now I come to look – I was right!
I am the Storytellers!

Mr. H: I’m pretty much punching the air over here

Storytellers: I am one being, but I am also several.
*splits into several figures, all of different colours*
*and sometimes reshapes into a single being who’s a rainbow*

Mr. H: that’s one way of solving the Saruman issue!
ALL YOUR POWERS COMBINED!

Storytellers: Ha, yes!
Yay!
Stories are many, and varied.

Mr. H: you can say that again!

Storytellers: And being stuck into one being made us, frankly, kind of broken and bewildered and, well, stuck.
Bilbo can have a range of storytellers to help with different cases.
But ultimately, we are the reflections (many and one) of their own storytelling power.

Mr. H: yes, yes, yes

Storytellers: Seven (or possibly a million) Rainbow Storytellers for the price of one blue monster. :-)
Oh, I like being this us so much better! relaxes

Mr. H: you guys are so awesome :D

Bilbo: Mr H, may we collectively give you a hug?

Mr. H: YEAH!!!
hugpile!

Storytellers: Rainbow Storytellers hug-pile!
Thank you. :-)
I would really, really like to talk to Bilbo soon, so if I could have Eve back so maybe she can help me prepare for that?

Mr. H: wahoo! thank YOU, and yes, sure

Storytellers: But thank you so much, Mr H!

Mr. H: thanks guys, never been hugged by someone else’s headpeople before, I’ll never forget this

Storytellers: :-)

Mr. H: and you’re very welcome
now here’s Eve….

Storytellers: As are you!
Hello Eve. :-)

me: hello!

Storytellers: We would really like to talk to Bilbo, and to apologise to them for having scared them and resented them so much.

me: I think that would be wonderful

Storytellers: And we’d also like to give them full permission to be the Head Storyteller of our little group, and promise to let them take the lead.

me: and I think that would be wonderful too

Storytellers: We are, however, quite scared.

me: oh <3 how can I help?

Storytellers: We’re not quite sure.

me: what’s scaring you right now?

Storytellers: That they may hate us.

me: *nods*

Storytellers: Also, that we will fail at this, and go back to being the Blue It’s-Too-Late Monster again.
We don’t ever want to be the Blue Monster again!

me: as long as you don’t want to, you won’t
you might have moments when you forget, but you’ll be able to be reminded, or to remind yourself
you can’t un-realise what you’ve realised today

Storytellers: nods That makes sense. :-)
Maybe… maybe Bilbo can help us to stay Rainbow. :-)

me: yes :) absolutely

Storytellers: But the bluest of us is going to stay slightly taller, and may be our spokesperson, to remind us that we were Blue, and that it’s okay for our pasts to have had grief and failure and regrets in them.

me: that’s perfect, yes
that’s beautiful

Storytellers: Because pasts are important, including grief and failure and regrets.
Thank you. :-)

me: you’re welcome

Storytellers: Okay! We are ready, if Bilbo is ready too to come out.

me: wonderful
let me check with them
Bilbo, are you willing to come out and talk with your Storytellers?

Storytellers: Can you call them? We’re… a bit shy of doing so, given everything.

me: I understand

Bilbo: Absolutely. :-) Actually, I can’t wait.

me: then please come and do so <3
Storytellers, you’re good to talk now <3

Bilbo: *emerges*
Hi Storytellers!
I’ve heard everything that’s been going on.
I rather randomly found some daisies at the top of this hill, and I made seven daisy chains. Which can also be a million if you like, because this is (partly) Story-land.

me: <3<3<3

Bilbo: (Okay, I’m going to start using character headings to avoid confusing us. :-) )

me: :D

Storytellers: Bilbo, we are so, so sorry for impeding you and stopping you from doing things, and for trying to control you and hem you in and make you follow a trope-filled story that wasn’t appropriate.

Bilbo: I know. :-) You were doing it because you love me, and Gods, you helped me so much when I was a child! It’s not your fault that stories can’t cover every eventuality – or that most of the stories in the world are problematic when it comes to things such as age, gender, child abuse and disability and so on!
I’m really proud of you all for talking to Eve and Mr H and sorting yourselves out. And I love you. :-)
*gives Storytellers daisy chains, one each*

me: *crying happily*

Bilbo: Oh, that’s lovely! You know that you were all identical before? You started off as the Blue Monster being bearded and male and thin and sad-looking, and now you’re all shapes and sizes and identities, and fluctuating! I think the daisies brought you to life. :-)

Storytellers: :) :) :)

me: :) :):)

Blue Storyteller: Bilbo, we really do need and want you to grieve properly and fully for everything you’ve lost in your childhood and adolescence and adulthood so far. And to recognise that it’s okay to regret things. That is going to be my role in your head from now on – to remind you that stories with regret in them aren’t unbearably sad. That you don’t need to push that grief aside.

Bilbo: Okay. I’m not going to be able to do that all at once, you know? But bit by bit, I promise… no, Quaker, I affirm that I will do just that. And, thank you. :-)

Green Storyteller: Bilbo, we want you to recognise that you are our Chief, our Chief Storyteller. We will take our lead from you. We will suggest things, and write things down and tell them when you want us to. And we’ll all have different perspectives and ideas. But ultimately this is your story, and you need to write it. We’ve done our best to bring you up to this point, but we’ve been making things so much worse for you over the last few years.

Yellow Storyteller: You’re going to write a whole new story with your life from now on, Bilbo. And we’re going to help you. And we’re really scared by it, and we know that you are too. But we’re going to try to not add to your fear with our own Stuff. If you notice us doing so, please tell us, and tell us that it’s our Stuff, and we’ll try not to bring it to the table so much!

Red Storyteller: Also, you should write your own stories with 30+ female and/or genderqueer heroes, because there need to be more of them!

me: :D DD

(enthusiastic agreement from all Storytellers)

Bilbo: I’ll do my best. But I need to start living and writing my own story freely first. :-)

Purple Storyteller: Are you ready to do that now?

Bilbo: As ready as I’ll ever be, and I need to start somewhere. :-) One of the things that I need you guys to recognise is that sometimes the story image isn’t helpful to me at all. Because of all the baggage, and also becomes sometimes all I can deal with is the next five minutes, not the whole of my life! Seeing things in story-shape has contributed to my anxiety. Which isn’t your fault! But you remember how lately I’ve found it helpful when motivating myself for some things to say, “what I have power over, all I have power over, is me, myself, right now”? I want and need to carry on doing things like that.
But that doesn’t mean at all that you lot aren’t going to be wonderfully helpful to me too! There will be times when I’ll need your advice, and times when I’ll need your encouragement, and times when I really need to be in a story now, and times when I’ll need you to tell the story that I’m making – to be the author that the character whispers too! And times, above all, when I’ll need you guys cheering me on, because goodness knows recovery is hard in so many ways.

(the Storytellers coalesce temporarily, into a rainbow hue)

Rainbow Storyteller: That makes perfect sense. :-)
Hug?

(the Rainbow Storyteller separates into the 7 main colours again, and Bilbo hugs each one in turn. Then each of them lays their hand on Bilbo’s head in turn, and colour suffuses them.)

Bilbo: Thank you. Thank you all. :-)
Okay, is there anything else that any of you would like to say, to me or to Eve?

Storytellers: We’d like to thank Eve, please. :-)

me: :) oh, I was over here crying with joy and thanking God for letting me be a part of this

Bilbo: *loves*

Blue Storyteller: Eve, may we have a hug?

me: you SO may

Blue Storyteller: Storyteller hug-pile!

me: *hugs you all*

Blue Storyteller: Eve, it is possible that you now have colours on you yourself. :-)

me: <3<3<3<3<3<3
hee hee
I have no objection :D :D

Bilbo: SO MUCH LOVE Storytellers. And well done. I’m so proud of you all. :-) I’d really like to talk to Eve myself now and wind things down, because my head is slightly exploding with being me and the rest of you at the same time! But I LOVE YOOOOU! And we’ll talk soon, yes? :-)

(Storytellers spin and spin and spin together into one Rainbow Storyteller and then spin and spin and spin faster until they are made of light, and then disappear with a slight pop. Though they are probably just in Bilbo’s head now, and have not actually gone anywhere.)

Bilbo: Phewwww!
Gosh.
falls over sideways

me: I KNOW RIGHT
that was so wonderful I can’t even
wow

Bilbo: I was getting rather self-conscious during the last bit – talking to myself felt so weird.

me: it was amazing to read

Bilbo: I’m so scared, still. But also positive. :-) And, yeah. I know that they’re there in the back of my mind, and it’s like there’s this part of me that I know is on my side now. :-)
Yeah, getting that feeling of freedom. This could be good. :-)

me: oh, wonderful

Bilbo: THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG I DON’T EVEN!
You were amazing.
You are so damn good at this!

Join me in a thing?

I’m doing a thing that’s really important to me, and I’ve just posted about it on my Godblog.

I normally avoid getting my religion all up in your monster talk, because the last thing I want is for this to come off as the Holy Site for Holy Monster Talking and No Atheists. ACK!

I just wanted to mention this one thing because it’s about destuckification, and some of you might want to join in, and I just can’t not.

Multifaith destuckificational prayerfest (or goodthoughtfest if that’s how you roll!)

http://bit.ly/OmUksC

A Beautiful Skeleton Made of Swords

Warning: Eating disorder triggers and incredibly harsh monster opinions about fat people. I would like it on record that I strongly disagree with my monster’s opinions on this subject.

I’ve recently been dealing with a monster who refused to let me force myself to do anything. Now meet the monster who believed passionately in nothing but forcing.

This started as a conversation about maybe losing weight in a non-forcing, physically and mentally healthy way for the first time in my life. It ended up being about much more than weight, and one of the most challenging monster talks I’ve had. Every time we thought we’d almost got it resolved, something else would come up. Both Big Sister and Mr. H were flummoxed several times and kept tag-teaming in and out. We got there in the end. :)

(This monster is a beautiful skeleton made of dazzling swords, hovering on razor-feathered wings. Eyes like points of pale blue fire. A heart of cogs turning silently somewhere in the ribcage. Feet that never touch the ground.

I need Mr. H here so much I can’t even.)

Mr. H: Wow. Hey there, Terminator. (Silence) Okay, sorry. You’re not a Terminator. Who are you?

Skeleton: (a voice like steel singing) I am perfection. Absolute purity. Absolute strength.

Mr. H: Well, hi. So you’ve got some problems with Eve losing weight without forcing?

Skeleton: Pure strength of will. Everything she yearns for. To become herself her sword.

Mr. H: For you, forcing is beautiful, isn’t it?

Skeleton: Beautiful because pure. Perfection is what remains when everything else has been cut away. Beautiful because strong. Pure power. Absolute control. The beauty of a black sky full of stars. Pure blackness. Dazzling light.

Mr. H: And what do you mean by becoming herself her sword?

Skeleton: Somewhere in her body is a steel blade. By unearthing it from the flesh, she becomes worthy to wield it.

Mr. H: Man, I love the way you talk! Still not sure I get what it means, though. You’re saying that – losing weight for her is a fairytale quest? To prove her worthiness and find her sword? And when she’s thin, her body will be a weapon? Something that gives her power?

Skeleton: Yes…

Mr. H: I don’t see her as that kinda girl.

Skeleton: Ssssss! Not that kind of power! Not feminine, not fleshly! And not only power, but worth.

Mr. H: Someone who’s worthy to wield a sword is a warrior.

Skeleton: You understand.

Mr. H: Yes. So what you want is for her to be a warrior.

Skeleton: (distressed) She needs her sword. She needs her sword.

Mr. H: Uh – are you gonna smack me down if I mention Freud here?

Skeleton: Not of the flesh! Of the will!

Mr. H: You believe she has a strong will that she needs to find, and you desperately need to know she’ll find it.

Skeleton: Yes!

Mr. H: Because you’re worried that she doesn’t have enough power and self-worth and – nobility right now.

Skeleton. Strength and nobility. Yes.

Mr. H: Oh. This is an Utena thing. Swords, of course. Little one who -

Skeleton: Little one who bears up alone under such deep sorrow, never lose that strength or nobility, even when you grow up. But she lost it. She lost it under flesh. And I need her to find it again.

Mr. H: You think she lost her strength and nobility when she grew up. And you think that because she lost it ‘under flesh’, because she lost it when she grew, in order to find it she needs to get rid of the flesh.

Skeleton: Yes. And the quest will make her worthy. The journey will make her worthy of what awaits her at the end. This is an old, old story.

Mr. H: Oh, I know. You believe that deep down she’s a hero. That’s wonderful. She needs that. I’m just not sure about this question of ‘worthy’. What is it that makes you think she’s unworthy now?

Skeleton: You know that. A hero is not a hero at the beginning. You know that. A hero becomes a hero. Because of the journey.

Mr. H: You’re making so much sense as long as I forget you’re talking about dieting!

Skeleton: (eyes flare) This… is not… a diet. This is holy. This is everything. This is purification.

Mr. H: The Road of Trials. You want her to be purified by suffering. All the things she doesn’t need stripped away. Wait, but stripping away things she doesn’t need is good! That’s healthy. She could really use a sword to cut away the crap.

Skeleton: I am not for cutting crap.

Mr H: You – are her sword?

Skeleton: Yes! Why do you think I look like this? I am the sword that lives inside her!

Mr. H: Wow. Okay, so for you, the quality of will – or the qualities of strength and nobility - are associated with her skeleton. Wait, her skeleton actually does give her strength! Like, literally! And it doesn’t matter how much flesh is on top of it, it still does that! And it gives her nobility, because it allows her to stand up straight. To have backbone. To hold her head up high. And all those things have nothing to do with how much flesh she has either! It doesn’t need finding. It’s supposed to be inside her. It’s already doing its job right where it is!

Skeleton: I… am already doing my job? She doesn’t have to strip away her flesh to find me?

Mr. H: No, she doesn’t! What made you think that she’d lost you?

Skeleton: One day she realised she was weak and cowardly. She had always casually assumed that she was strong and brave, but looking back at her behaviour, she saw so much grovelling and fear. So much hiding and cringing and pleasing and avoiding. All since she started to grow up.

Mr. H: Strong and weak, brave and cowardly are static generalisations. Sure, the qualities of strength and nobility exist, but nobody embodies them all the time. And everyone gets to draw on them sometimes. What Eve noticed was that she’d been acting out of fear a lot. Which is understandable because she had a lot of fear!!

Skeleton: I WILL NOT BE REDUCED TO YOUR PETTY PSYCHOBABBLE! I AM A SWORD!

Mr. H: Sounds like you’re angry and you need to know that your identity isn’t threatened.

Skeleton: …I’m confused. I don’t know what to think.

Mr. H: Is there something that you’re scared of thinking?

Skeleton: That it’s easy. I want her to work for me. She needs a quest!

Mr. H: Oh, you need to know that she has a quest? Oh my goodness, she has so got a quest. Have you looked at her lately?

Skeleton: A noble cause. One that calls for strength.

Mr. H: She has one.

Skeleton: I suppose being thin – does call for strength, but it isn’t really – noble.

Mr. H: Wow.

Skeleton: But then I can’t imagine a fat person being noble.

Mr. H: (briefly gobsmacked) How about Kevin Smith sticking by Jason Mewes through years of drug addiction? Or Fiddler’s Green in Sandman offering his life for Rose Walker?

Skeleton: Any noble fat women?

Mr. H: The Ride of the Valkyries! Warrior angels of the Viking gods!

Skeleton: (head tilt) Don’t let me fall apart! (collapses in bits)

Mr. H: Hey. Hey. None of that. Get up. You’re needed.

Skeleton: (puts self back together, staggers to feet – standing on the ground now) I am?

Mr. H: You’re her sword. And you don’t need to await her at the end of the journey. Think about it. A sword isn’t something to be arrived at when the journey’s over. It’s something to help you on the way.

Skeleton: Unless it’s the Sword in the Stone.

Mr. H: Even if it is. Especially if it is. C’mon, that was the beginning of an epic story!

Skeleton: I still have a strong sense of being stuck in something that I need to get out of. That she needs to undo what was done while she was growing up.

Mr. H: Of course! Stuck! She needs to undo her stuckness! And it’s true that once she’s done that, she’ll be able to experience you much more freely. And it’s true that a lot of her stuckness is around her body, so it’s understandable that you thought it was her body.

Skeleton: Yes! I want her to overcome this so that we can be reunited!

Mr. H: You’re already as much part of her as her bones. Strength. Nobility. Power. In her bones.

Skeleton: …

Mr. H: And if you keep telling her she has to work to achieve those things, she will never notice that she already has them.

Skeleton: I’ve been… keeping her from me?

Mr. H: No. You’ve just been keeping her from noticing that you’re already there.

Skeleton: What can I do? Do I have to change my shape?

Mr. H: No. You’re perfect as you are.

Skeleton: Perfect…

Mr. H: You’re a perfect image of the truth. That she has power in her bones. Backbone of steel. That her power is always in her. Just remind her of that. Teach her to feel the steel in her bones. Strength and nobility and all those fairytale qualities she’s been longing for. Right there. Not to be earned, just noticed. And the more she practices noticing them, the better she’ll get at it.

Skeleton: She doesn’t have to qualify? She doesn’t have to have worth?

Mr. H: Her worry that she wasn’t worth anything was a lot of what stopped her noticing you in the first place.

Skeleton: Oh, no. My fault. But – somehow things don’t seem so good if they don’t have to be earned and chased. The best thing is always just out of reach. By definition. That’s fairytale yearning. Always in thrall most to anything almost. I don’t want her to stop dreaming the impossible dream. I don’t want her to settle for the possible. I want her to shoot for the moon.

Mr. H: I get that. I really do. Does it have to be all or nothing? I mean, while she’s chasing the impossible, can she still enjoy the possible?

Skeleton: I hadn’t thought of that. For me, chasing the impossible means cutting everything else away. Scorning everything else. Being haggard and wild like Don Quixote because you spurn the earth in your impossible quest for the moon. Infinity is so damn sweet, your mortal earth cannot compete. Starving for the other shore, I will not EAT! (Pause) It isn’t really about not eating, is it? It’s about refusing everything but what you can’t have. So the thing you can’t have can stand out all the more starkly in its impossible brilliance. So your dream will be more beautiful than everyone else’s. You strip yourself to rags and your dreams become diamonds. It’s impossible, but at least I’m striving for it! At least I’m closer than you! Go ahead and grovel like pigs in the things you can have. I eat the air, promise-crammed!

Mr. H: You’re right. That’s clearly what it’s about. And I have no idea what to say to that. Backup! Backup!

Skeleton: The nature of a sword is to be always seeking the next battle.

Mr. H: Yeah, but not to scorn all the less good battles because you’re saving yourself for the one impossible best one!

Big Sister: Okay, okay. The impossible dream. It sounds to me like you want to be the impossible dream for her. Which makes sense, because you’re a beautiful, powerful skeleton. That’s the anorexic impossible dream right there. You want her to give up everything that’s not you so she’ll become you. A being of pure power, without flaws or vulnerability.

Skeleton: YES!!

Big Sister: And yet you also acknowledge that that’s impossible.

Skeleton: …Yes.

Big Sister: I’m confused. You obviously love her very much, and you want her to give up everything to spend her whole life striving for the impossible.

Skeleton: …It’s just that she’s so beautiful when she’s striving! So noble! If I had tears, I would weep! Never tell me to be unmoved by this. Never tell me to accept less for her. I am her Will!

Big Sister: I understand. And the striving needs to be only for the impossible?

Skeleton: She’s so much herself when she’s striving for the impossible. So absurd it’s noble, so noble it’s absurd. Quixotic. I want her always to be quixotic.

Big Sister: (smiles) Okay. I see that. And does that depend on her striving only for the impossible?

Skeleton: If she gets too distracted by possible things, she might become – satisfied. Sssss! Satisfied!

Big Sister: Sounds like you’re really scared of that possibility. What might happen if she became satisfied?

Skeleton: She would stop striving and become a fat boring grown-up. More than that, it’s intrinsically disgusting. Satisfied! I need her to be always hungry!

Big Sister: You need to know that her needs won’t be met?

Skeleton: … Yes. All the little needs are too petty, too distracting. And the one great need that obliterates all else must be impossible. To become a beautiful skeleton. To become a being of pure willpower.

Big Sister: A being capable of forcing herself to do absolutely anything?

Skeleton: Yes.

Big Sister: Is there some kind of meta-need that you’re trying to meet for her, by having all her other needs not be met?

Mr. H: Meta-need! If you never met a need, then you might meet her meta-need! (chuckles)

Big Sister: (suppressed giggle) If you can’t say anything useful…

(Skeleton quietly starts hovering in the air again.)

Big Sister: Are you trying to meet her need for hope and challenge?

Skeleton: For extreme, transcendent, all-consuming… oh.

Big Sister: Are you short of a noun?

Skeleton: Yes.

Big Sister: You’re trying to meet her need for extreme, transcendent, all-consuming something but you don’t really know or care what?

Skeleton: You make it sound as if it’s not important. It is ALL-important. She needs to transcend and to be consumed. To the absolute extreme.

Big Sister: You’re trying to meet her need for spiritual experience? Loss of ego? To lose herself in something greater?

Skeleton: Oh. Yes, I guess the impossible dream is a… partial recognition of the truth that infinity is out there. That there’s always more. That you can always go further into it. So the impossible dream is really about.. infinite possibility?

Big Sister: Yes. And I think the word you’re missing there is ‘love’.

Skeleton: Extreme, transcendent, all-consuming – love?

Big Sister: Would that describe what you want? For Eve?

Skeleton: (long pause) I’m not sure. Passion, certainly. And desire. Unquenchable desire. I need her to be always striving! That’s why I’m terrified about this business of ‘not forcing herself any more’!

Big Sister: Because forcing and striving are the same?

Skeleton: Forcing is a part without which striving is incomplete. Striving can be done with wholehearted enthusiasm, or it can be done with gritted teeth and fists clenched in pain. Or any point in between. In fact, striving that comes from pure enthusiasm with no forcing is the smallest part. To strive only when you feel like it would be like having a dog and only ever touching its tail.

Big Sister: That would be a sad, lonely, frustrated and confused dog.

Skeleton: YES!!

Big Sister: Are you feeling sad, lonely, frustrated and confused?

Skeleton: Yes!

Big Sister: Because you need appreciation for all aspects of you, not just one small part?

Skeleton: Yes!

Big Sister: And for her to appreciate all aspects of you – she would have to power through every situation on pure willpower, regardless of her other needs, and then she would achieve total oneness with you?

Skeleton: Yes!

Big Sister: Because – wait, isn’t that the definition of pure willpower? ‘Screw all my other needs, I am going to meet this one need no matter what!’ That’s you!

Skeleton: Yes, yes, yes!

Big Sister: …Whew. Now I need backup.

Mr. H: So how’s that working out for you?

Skeleton: What?

Mr. H: Insisting that she ignore most of her own needs. Wait, is that how you define strength and nobility? The power to ignore your own needs?

Skeleton: YES, HOW IS THAT NOT OBVIOUS?

Mr H: Wow.

Skeleton: To ignore your base, petty needs in favour of a greater need. Come on, this is textbook. I can’t believe I need to explain to you about heroes.

Mr. H: Okay. Yeah. Okay. Backup.

Big Sister: Okay! Other ways to approach the same thing! We have this crazy theory that if there’s a greater need that you really want to meet, you can meet it better, faster, stronger by meeting all the little needs you meet along the way! And that’s fairytale too! When you run into the ugly old woman who begs you for a loaf of bread, and if you help her she gives you magical guidance? When you save the little fish who rewards you with wishes? All the little needs along the way!

Skeleton: But those are – others. Needs of others. Not internal.

Big Sister: A true hero is a hero to everyone, right? No creature too insignificant, too ugly, or too small.

Skeleton: Yes.

Big Sister: Then a true hero must also be a hero to herself. To stop on the road for this creature that seems the most hideous of all, the most worthless. It takes true nobility! True strength. The power in her bones!

(The skeleton can’t cry, but I am.)

Big Sister: She needs you every moment. She needs her sword.

Skeleton: Yes… But won’t she become satisfied? If her needs are met, won’t she stop striving and become just a disgusting lump of flesh?

Big Sister: Let’s see if I can get this straight. As far as I can see, you’re trying to keep her striving by using self-disgust.

Skeleton: Yes.

Big Sister: The thing is, self-disgust is one of the most stuckifying substances known to science.

Mr. H: Like I said – how’s it working out for you? Are you getting a lot of results? Is she striving a lot?

Skeleton: No. Not now. But it has worked in the past. She – she got really – thin. (Pause) Why can’t it work like that now?

Mr. H: It might have worked in the short term, but not in the long term. Especially not now she’s growing and learning so much. She wants to chase her dreams. She’s really into the infinite possibilities. She doesn’t need the self-disgust. It’s just slowing her down.

Skeleton: Slowing her down? But I’m putting so much force into motivating her!

Mr. H: Self-disgust doesn’t motivate her. I’m sorry.

Skeleton: (eyes flare, lightning crackles) AAAARGH!

Big Sister: I’m going to ask you to do something very counterintuitive. Stop trying so hard. She doesn’t need you to put force into motivating her. She just needs to know you’re there. Her sword. In her bones. That’s enough.

Skeleton: That’s enough?

Big Sister: That’s everything. Try it for a while, see if it works. Are you willing?

(long pause)

Skeleton: Let her come to me.

Big Sister: Eve? Are you okay to come out here?

Me: (slightly nervous) Yes.

(I step out in front of the beautiful skeleton hovering on its razor wings. I look up into those eyes. I’m awed and afraid.)

Skeleton: Do not be afraid. I am your skeleton. I am your sword.

Me: I’m ready.

Skeleton: I am your power. I am your strength and nobility. Embrace me.

(I hesitate. It is, after all, made of swords. Sharp blades.)

Skeleton: The power to revolutionise the world.

(That does it. Slowly, I step forward, touch the bladed ribs, put my arms around the skeleton, unharmed. And the skeleton embraces me. For a second I think it’s sinking to the ground, then I realise I’m rising into the air. Weightless. Its wings beating around me. I’m crying.)

Me: I love you. My sword. My sword.

(The skeleton lets me go and I’m turning in the air, the skeleton behind me. I close my eyes and I know to lift my arms up, outstretched, I know the skeleton is doing the same, and we merge. My wings of sparkling steel are beating in the air. I let myself sink slowly to the ground, let the wings fold into me and open my eyes. I start to grin because I know my eyes are burning with blue fire. My sword is in my bones.)

Geekout

No, this is not about the VERY exciting news coming in from Comic-Con today…

I just received an email from my friend Casby and had to share (with his permission, of course):

How are the monsters? I keep thinking of you as being like the Ghostbusters i.e. you must have a high voltage laser containment system in your room at Abi’s place, where you are storing all the monsters you’ve caught. Then you’ll get more and more requests for sessions until you realise that an Elder God is actually entering this dimension and you’ll need to fight them off by spelling words with E before I until the internets explode and the God is banished back to there own universe :)
 
Peter Mayhew will be the Keymaster and Carrie Fisher the Gatekeeper.
 
I’ll switch references and request that you don’t try to kidnap the Enterprise to take it to the centre of the Galaxy and meet a fake God :D