#like i get her being calm about it bc the likelihood of something happening is so slim

[cimeriansparrow]

"It took her how long to gain your trust and she's gonna throw it all away over something she doesn't understand."

"She might genuinely be worried for your safety, which is silly"

Girl What is there to misunderstand and Why is it silly. You pulled a knife on your family members and threatened them with it before turning it on yourself. And then you hurt one of your children after they made a comment about it.

That's shit that needs to be reported

[photochoco]

New Recruit

After an unfortunate run-in with a client, Wisteria finds themselves with a curse. Luckily, Black Cauldron is here to help.

Pinprick and Bianca had been the closest to the disturbance. Patrolling had its perks, one of them being that you never knew when you might conveniently stumble upon magical mayhem. 

Well, they didn’t stumble upon it so much as they heard a pained screech split through the air as they walked along. Rushing towards the source, they rounded a corner and into an alley-

Someone in a pointed hat stood with their back to the Cadets, holding a second person up by their throat. Magic crackled in the air like static.

A witch.

“HEY!” Bianca yelled. Pinprick rushed past her, talons outstretched. 

The witch barely sidestepped his swipe in time, their hat getting nicked in the process. Scrambling onto their broom, they rose up into the air and took off above the buildings. 

“Pin, go after ��em! I’ll take care of the kid.”

Despite being a giant, Pinprick was very fast. He gave a single nod and leapt up onto a nearby house, hopping from rooftop to rooftop in pursuit. 

The civilian was laying in a heap on the ground, unmoving. 

Bianca swore under her breath as she skidded to a halt next to them, grabbing their shoulder and rolling them over. Whatever had happened with the witch, it seemed like they'd put up a fight, smeared blood drying on the corners of their mouth. 

“Damn kid...I’m sorry…” Bianca muttered as she noticed the streams of multicolor flowing in rivulets from their closed eyes. It coated their hands as well; it was no doubt caused by a curse. At least they were breathing. Bianca considered calling for backup before Pinprick leapt down in front of her.

He wore a frustrated scowl. “The witch got away. They were too far ahead.”

Bianca sighed in resignation. “Dammit. Well, let’s at least count it as a win that they didn’t kill this kid here. Look at ‘er eyes though, I think they got cursed. We gotta- hff- get ‘em to Tracy- Geezus they’re a deadweight-” she sunk under their weight as she tried to hoist them up, an arm around their shoulders.

“Here, let me-” Pinprick gently scooped them into his arms. Their head sagged against his chest and they didn’t stir beyond a small mumble that was barely audible. “Poor thing…” he murmured, cradling them carefully against himself. 

“Let’s get 'em back to BC and see what the damage is. Hopefully nothin’ too bad.”

---

A myriad of voices reached her ears, but she couldn’t really understand what anyone was saying through her exhaustion. She wanted to go back to sleep.

Consciousness came slow, discouraged by soft, warm blankets. Yet they couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible had happened…She scrunched her face up. It felt like...there was something...

“Oh shit, they moved!”

“She’s waking up!”

“Oooooh do you think she’ll wanna become a Cadet?”

“Whaddaya think happened?”

“Ok everyone, that’s enough, off you go! There will be plenty of time for meet and greet later!”

Coherent thought was returning in a steady stream, and it was now that she realized there were bandages around her eyes. Bandages? Is that why her eyelids felt so hot and swollen…? Or was it because her eyes felt hot and swollen that she had bandages…? Did something happen to them?

She sat up rather abruptly, hearing a squeal of surprise in response to her quick movement. Her eyes...were really itchy. They itched, but they stung more, like a dull ache. Like someone had blown pepper flakes into her eyes…they automatically watered in response to the thought. 

Her head throbbed. Ugh...it felt like something was hammering the inside of her skull...She pressed a hand to her temple in protest of the sudden headache.

“Welcome back, dear. You gave us a bit of a scare, being out for so long.”

She jumped at the voice and heard a soft chuckle.

“No need to be jumpy, now. You’re at Black Cauldron. My name is Tracy Pan, I’m a nurse here.”

“Black Cauldron…” she echoed. “You mean the guild for cursed people…?”

“The very same. One of our teams found you in an alley. It looked like you had been attacked. Does that seem familiar at all?”

It did. She nodded, her mouth suddenly becoming dry. If she was here, at Black Cauldron, did that mean…?

“I’ll get straight to the matter at hand. When our Cadets found you, you seemed to have color streaming from your eyes. When you got here, your eyelids were pretty irritated and swollen, hence the bandages as a precaution. It’s very possible you’ve been cursed.”

Wisty was silent as the nurse methodically unwound the gauze and peeled the medical tape off the pads over her eyes. 

“I...don’t really remember a lot about what happened. They were a client of mine, they were angry about...something about the art I made for them? We got into a fight and...they shot some sort of spell at me.”

“Hm hm! And what’s your name?”

She could barely squeeze it out of her rapidly tightening throat as dread coiled in her gut . “...W-Wisteria. Wisteria Inkwell. Or...Wisty...”

“Pleasure to meet you, Wisty. I’m going to remove your bandages. When they’re off, make sure to open your eyes slowly. If you are cursed, there’s a high likelihood that it affected your eyes.”

Please don’t let it be what she thought it was.

Please let that have been from shock. Please...

“Alright, you can open your eyes now.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she opened them.

Everything was grey. Greys and whites and blacks, like she was looking at an old photograph. Monochrome. The color was gone. Wisty’s heart had started to pound so hard she could feel each thump in her chest. The dread uncoiled and shot through her veins, bringing with it a wave of cold.

Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot--

No. No. No. No way. This couldn’t be happening.

She would not cry, not in front of other people, let alone a stranger. Emotions she couldn’t place were whirling about inside her so fast. But her face was blank as she willed the tears back. She felt very dizzy.

“Hm hm!” A small plump woman popped into her view, a troll? She leaned in close, examining her eyes. “It would seem it is indeed a curse on your eyesight. Or is it perhaps a different version of soul loss…? Your eyes are voided out like another one of our Cadets, but his are white, yours are black. What do you see?”

Wisty fought off tears. “There’s no color. I can’t see color, I--they-- they took color from me...they--”

“Interesting, interesting…and how else do you feel?” Tracy continued.

The room was spinning.

“I...uh…kin...kinda...dizzy...” Wisty mumbled. “I think ‘m gonna b’ sick…”

 “Hmm, you might be in shock. How about we… …”

The rest of the nurse’s words were lost to the static roar that started in Wisty’s ears. Everything sounded very far away all of a sudden, she herself felt like she was floating. She could see things, hear things, but she couldn’t make sense of any of it. She tried to breathe in steadily, but her chest was burning. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She felt herself falling freely through space.

Where was the color?

---

It was quiet when Wisty came to again. Jeez...what happened? Had they fainted?

They opened their eyes, slowly.

It was no less gut-wrenching the second time.

The world was still in grayscale, and the sickening feeling swelled inside them all over again. They looked around and listened, eyes already brimming with tears. They were alone. Good.

They buried their face into their knees and sobbed. They sobbed until they felt like they were going to be sick. Their throat was tight and their head pounded, they cried until they had no tears left. The colorful world they’d loved so much was gone. And it wasn’t going to come back. Small wails mixed in with their sobs, thankfully muffled by the blankets.

Finally, they calmed themself down with a series of long sighs that shook their frame. They wiped their eyes and looked around, sniffling. Urgh, now they’d given themself a nasty headache and they couldn’t breathe through their nose. They slipped out of bed to find the bathroom. They could use some cold water on their face. 

Wisty approached the door and went to open it, only to have it swing forward on its own, causing them to yelp in response.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t--excuse me--” 

The pair of legs in the doorway bent down, and an incredibly tall ghoul ducked through the threshold.

“Ahem.” He straightened himself up to his full height, easily over nine feet. “Apologies cupcake, I didn’t see you there. Actually, should you even be out of bed? You haven’t been taking your curse very well.”

Wisty squirmed and hastily wiped at her eyes. “I, um, I actually feel fine now. I just wanted some water.”

He leaned down, putting his face too close to hers, and gently pressed a long pointed finger onto her cheek. She resisted the urge to shrink away. What if he noticed--

“Now, why the waterfalls?”

Crap.

“I. Um.”

The ghoul studied her expression and grinned widely with a chuckle, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Wisty averted her gaze. What colors was he? Frustrated tears bubbled up again. The ghoul cocked his head and continued to grin. Then his eyebrows hopped up and his smile dropped in surprise.

“Oh my. That doesn’t look normal.”

“H-Huh?” Wisty wiped at her eyes and was startled to smell...what was that? Ink? She pulled her hand away.

Some sort of dark substance was smeared across the back of her hand. She looked at it. Looked up at the ghoul. Back to the ink. Then the ghoul. He stared back with a surprisingly calm expression.

“Side effect of your curse, perhaps?” he suggested.

Fighting back the urge to just up and scream, Wisty replied, “Uuuhhhhh maybe? Hope this isn’t a permanent thing-”

“Yo Pin, quit hoggin’ the doorframe!” 

A girl with long gelatinous-looking hair squeezed past the ghoul, her eyebrows also hopping up when she saw Wisty.

Oh, you’re awake! ‘S about time too, you were startin’ to freak us all out! Especially after you fainted right outta the bed.”

She stuck her hand out, and Wisty took it in her own. The girl’s hand was very warm.

“I’m Bianca Frost, and this is my partner Pinprick! We make up Team B of Black Cauldron. We found you in an alley.”

“Oh--oh my god, you guys saved me? Thank you!!”

Bianca shrugged and rubbed the back of her head, looking away.

“Eh, it was nothin’. I’m just sorry we didn’t find you sooner. Uh, how are ya feelin’ now? You know your eyes are...uh, leaking, right?”

“Y-Yeah, dunno what’s up with that. I’m...better. It’s still kinda a big shock,” Wisty rubbed at her eyes again. “Do you have a bathroom in here? I wanted to get some water and clean my face.”

At her insistence that she felt fine enough to do it herself, Bianca pointed Wisty in the direction of the restrooms. They were easy to find, tucked around the corner from a bar area. There were several people sitting at tables, and they all swiveled their heads to stare at her as she walked by. With a weird flip in her stomach, Wisty hurriedly shut the door behind her as whispers began.

Purposefully avoiding the mirror, they splashed their face with water, sighing as it soothed their itchy, swollen eyes. Wisty braced themselves, head hanging with one hand on either side of the sink. They stared down at the wisps of ink mixing with the water as it all swirled down the drain. They could deal with this. It would be fine. They’d be fine. They’d find a way to keep making art, this was fine. They cupped their hands under the stream and took several thirsty gulps. This was manageable. People got cursed all the time. (As unfortunate as that was.) 

Wisty sighed again. They wondered if the curse affected how their eyes looked. Steeling themself, they looked in the mirror. Their eyes were completely black, no visible iris or sclera to be seen. 

“Whoooooooaaaa,” They couldn’t help the exclamation as they leaned in closer, staring at their reflection with wide eyes. “Haha, what the hell…?”

They pulled their eyelid down and rolled their eyeball around, looking this way and that; the whole thing was as solid and black as an 8 ball and reflected no light. Kinda like that pigment of black they used once-

A thought struck them- what would people think if they saw their eyes? Would they avoid her? Would people commission art from a cursed person who couldn’t even see the colors she was using? Cursed people in Salem were viewed with pity, and sometimes worse, outright scorn for being damaged goods. Would they have to wear sunglasses or something? What if--

There was a knock on the door.

Pin’s -that was his name right?- voice sounded on the other side, muffled, “Hey cupcake, are you almost done in there? John wants to talk to you.”

John? Who’s that…? Wisty opened the door. Two people dressed in Ironmaiden uniforms were waiting to greet her. One was a tall, imposing-looking woman with her greying hair neatly twisted into a bun. She looked severe, but her eyes looked at Wisty gently. Next to her was an equally-tall oxen hybrid, standing with his arms crossed. He looked at Wisty just as kindly, despite his intimidating appearance. She fiddled with the hem of her dress, clenching it in her hands.

“You’re Wisteria Inkwell, correct?” the woman asked. Wisty nodded.

“My name is Elanor Pan, founder of Black Cauldron. This here is John Bullock, chief of the Iron Maidens.”

“We wanted to ask you a few questions. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” John said, noting Wisty’s sudden nervous expression. “We wanted to ask you about the witch that cursed you. It’s our understanding they got away after attacking you.”

“Oh, no! I don’t mind at all…” Wisty replied, feeling relief wash over her.

“Good. Now, if you’ll come this way…” John ushered Wisty into another room. Before the door closed, she looked back at the entourage that was still gathered. They all stared at her. 

Wisty rubbed at her eyes.

---

She ambled back out the door a good while later, now rubbing at her temple. John and Ela had peppered her with questions about her assailant until her head was spinning. They certainly were thorough. She’d drawn them a picture of the witch that had cursed her, which ate up even more time as she tried to recall as many details about them as possible. Then...more questioning. A drop of whatever-the-heck was dripping out of her eyes nearly ruined the whole damn drawing. 

Wisty wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to have happen. Did she want the witch to be arrested? Did she want revenge? Out of all the things she was feeling, anger wasn’t very high on the list at the moment. Both John and Ela had assured her the drawing she made, as well as the details she provided, would be put on the wanted board in Black Cauldron.

On that topic… Ela had said…

The people still in the bar area chose that moment to pounce, all but swarming around her.

“Hey! Did Ela talk to you about becoming a Cadet?”

“What kind of curse do you have?”

“Want some soda?”

They were all talking over each other so loudly Wisty could hardly piece together what any one person said. She was luckily saved by Elanor, who swept out of the room behind her.

“Really now! I’d said there’d be time for introductions later, but this poor child has had a very long day and she certainly doesn’t need to be bombarded by you all at once. I know you’re all excited about the prospect of a new Cadet, but please, be considerate. Don’t scare them off just yet!” she said, a good-humored smile curving her mouth. She placed a hand on Wisty’s shoulder and looked down at her, still smiling. “Think about my offer, won’t you? I think you’d be a valuable member here.”

“I’ll think about it, for sure,” Wisty said.

Ela nodded. “Good. In the meantime, would you like to stay here awhile until you’re feeling better? Maybe get yourself acquainted with some of our Cadets here.”

“I’m- Thank you very much Mrs. Elanor-” Wisty managed to squeak out as Bianca grabbed her wrist and began to pull her away.

“Just Ela is fine, dear!”

Bianca ushered a bewildered Wisty into a seat, and the remaining chairs at the table were very quickly filled in. A stout girl with hair that curled at the ends trotted up to the crowd, notepad in hand.

“Hi! I’m Cameilla, a waitress here. Can I get you anything to drink?” she chirped, smiling wide. 

“I’d looooove a soda-” a boy at the table started. “She was talking to the new kid, not you,” someone else retorted. 

“Well...if it’s not too much trouble, I’m literally dying for a lemonade right now,” Wisty said.

Cameilla smiled and hopped away towards the kitchen. “Cameilla is the youngest Cadet,” Bianca said. “She’s not keen on the whole fighting thing, so she works as a waitress here instead!” 

She returned a very short time later with Wisty’s lemonade, and the questions began. 

The first to speak was Pinprick. “So, my dear, care to share with the rest of the class? Why don’t we get those introductions out of the way.”

“Oh! I’m Wisteria. Just Wisty is fine.”

Everyone looked at her expectantly. One of the Cadets tapped near their eyes and pointed at her.

“Oh right, my curse. Well...I can’t see color anymore,” Wisty found it was easier to talk about than she had anticipated. “I can still see and all, but it’s like--you know black and white photographs? It’s like that. I can still see value, but all the hue and saturation is gone.”

There was a wave of nods and aaaaaah’s that quickly turned into a collective scream as a thick, viscous liquid trickled down Wisty’s cheeks.

“Holy shit your eyes are melting!!”

“No no no no they’re not! They’ve been doing this ever since I woke up. I’m...really hoping this isn’t a thing my eyes just do now…” 

Bianca slid a napkin dispenser her way and Wisty grabbed several, hurriedly rubbing at her face, grumbling in frustration.

“I swear, if this is just a thing for me now I’m gonna go feral,” she muttered.

“Being colorblind looks pretty metal,” a boy with glowing white eyes said, blowing a cloud of smoke out through his teeth. A cigarette was clenched between them.

Wisty wrinkled her nose and tried not to gag into the napkin. She hated the smell of cigarette smoke. The Cadet sitting next to the boy must have noticed, because he deftly yoinked it out of his comrade’s mouth.

“Yo Harvey, what the hell man?!” the boy squawked as the person in a bunny mask crumpled the cigarette in his hand.

“If you paid any attention to her face, you’d have seen your smokestack was making her sick, dumbass.” He turned to Wisty and stuck out his non-ash covered hand, which Wisty took and shook. “I’m Harvey. I make weapons for Cadets here. This idiot next to me is Dex.”

Dex gave a short wave, grinning widely. “Yep, that’s me! Dex, the resident heartthrob.”

Wisty blinked. “Oh, I’ve seen you before! You nearly ran me over with your bike once.”

Everyone present swiveled their heads to stare at Dex. He blinked.

“I’m sorry about him. He tragically lost all his brain cells years ago.“

“...I did?”

“Oh my god Dex that is NOT what you say to someone you nearly flattened with your dumb bike!”

“Hey! DeeDee is NOT dumb! She--ow ow ow ow!” his words cut off with a squeal as Harvey sitting next to him grabbed him in a headlock.

“I’m sorry about him. He tragically lost all his brain cells years ago.“

Wisty couldn’t help but giggle. “Um, have you all been here long?”

“Some of us have, yeah,” Harvey said. He released his hold on Dex, who sucked in air theatrically.

“Caldwell, the guy workin’ behind you? He helped form BC with Ela. They go way back,” Pinprick said. “Then we all joined one by one! There’s many more of us who aren’t here right now, but it’d be lovely if you met them, cupcake. We’re definitely a rag-tag bunch with a myriad of curses to match.”

Bianca tossed her hair, grinning in a way that seemed very much prideful. “A witch set me on fire and I turned into a lava elemental! Best thing that ever happened to me!” 

“I mean, it’s fairly obvious for me,” Pinprick added, grinning equally widely. “Black Cauldron’s resident ghoul.” 

Harvey was silent until Dex leaned on him hard enough to nearly push him off his chair.

“Oh god fine!” he relented, placing a hand on Dex’s face and shoving him away. “I was dared by some buddies of mine to put this mask on and it never came off,” he said. “Happy now?” he added to Dex, who was watching him with his chin in his hands, smiling mischievously. 

“How do you eat then?!” Wisty balked.

“With a straw, duh.”

“What about you, Dex? Wh-”

“Sooooo!” Dex cut in. “Are you thinking about becoming a Cadet?”

“I mean, Ela did make the offer to me. But I dunno how much of a help I’d be to be honest. Fighting sounds interesting, buuuuut all I’m really good at is making art.”

“We can help teach you, if you join. And Harvey can make you a weapon!” Dex said. “And if ya want, maybe you could team up with someone, like Alphus over there, or—”

“I work alone, Dex boy,” the woman leaning on the wall nearby said.

Wisty shrunk in her seat.

“Oh, don’t mind her cupcake, she can be a little standoffish towards everyone at first,” Pinprick said, placing a reassuring hand on Wisty’s shoulder, nearly knocking her off her chair. “Honestly Alphus, be nice!”

Alphus shrugged. “Hey, never said I was against backup if I’d ever need it, which I won’t. Just so long as no one gets in my way.”

“So what was this about you being an artist?” Harvey inquired.

“Oh yeah! I mostly do commission work and run my studio outta my apartment. You might’ve seen some of my stuff if you visit the underground city.”

“Oooooh, can you show us some of your work?”

“Can you draw something right now?”

---

It ended up being pretty late when Wisty finally set off back home. A slight breeze wafted through the city streets, and they initially felt oddly at ease, despite everything that had happened. But as they walked along, gazing at familiar sights, a pit opened up in the bottom of their stomach. How were they going to deal with this? What would they tell their friends? Their family? The streetlamps that once felt so warm seemed frigid now, a dull grey. Values were mixing together and hard to tell apart. Wisty impatiently flicked away yet another trickle of black from their right eye.

Black Cauldron…

They’d heard of them for a long time, but they never imagined they might end up joining one day. And even now, they were still unsure. Everyone they had met were very friendly, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to become a Cadet. Maybe they could make recruitment posters or something. Or something. The last thing they wanted to be was a hindrance to anyone. 

A single day at a time.

“Ugh!” Wisty shouted aloud, throwing their fists in the air.

They had time to think it over, even Ela had said so! There was no rush.

They’d take it one day at a time.

[grandzealot]

ovo (your choice!)

hypothetical relationships || [ open ]

cracks knuckles

elle.

he would like her! shes too young for romantic shipping. often when this happens it can be natural for richter to sort of adopt people but i feel like hed feel like shes got her own direction well enough. she has a lot of traits that he values altho hes a hypocrite so hes probably not anywhere near as moral himself lmao. how she ends up handling far harbor would have a big impact on his thoughts of course

zetta.

hed appreciate her practical skills. on one hand hed love her temper if it were directed at his enemies on the other he would be SO GRUMPY if it were directed at the coa or himself lmaopragmatism is also something he likes a lot 

wow im reading her traits more thoroughly as i type this and a lot of things about her are similar to him. big contrasts being that his mind is probably more chill and his emotions tend to be more slow to build. but if he is showing emotion it usually is anger…

richter isnt particularly self aware so sometimes being around people who are like himself make him mad and he doesnt understand why

on one hand i can imagine him liking her very much on another they could be quickly and grumpily at each others throats quite a bit ( maybe mostly depending upon if they have a common ‘enemy’. ) he might come off as calm next to her by nature of letting her take the lead if theyre both being upset at the same thing in particular

shes in richters age range and if he knows her as being private/discreet that makes a romantic/sexual interaction more possible but their personalities may or may not clash too much. they might have to actually GROW to get along and that can definitely be asking too much of richter lmao. v funny if its the same for zetta  

riley.

aw richter would like him probably. esp if he acts polite to the coa. richter would naturally tell him what to do if they were working toward the same ends and he would think it was a comfortable and nice interaction. if he actually knew the mans thoughts richter would be inclined to be gentle to him bordering on babying him

in a relationship richter would be very protective and would be very soft about him but idk the likelihood of them getting to that point bc richters still richter and basically every muse ever could always do better lmao

bellamy.

gosh we talked about them a bit already. richter might have had issues with him not conforming as much as richter deems appropriate but ultimately hed view him as being well placed within the enclave as they age – esp bc richter goes into recon and likely appreciates his intel

shipwiiiise i feel like initially they might have a strained friendship with a deeper secret appreciation bc neither has super close friends to begin with? if they run into each other later in the commonwealth richter would probably pretend to not know him in public and idk how well they would talk in private. richters not the type of person that gets ppl to feel things they dont normally feel so romantic/sexual things are probably extra impossible lmao

maccready.

i dont think ive seen what he says about the coa but i assume its not nice lmaoooo

richter would probably scowl heavily but by default tolerate p hard bc any player character maccreadys traveling with is helpful to the family. ultimately hed appreciate mac having their (sosu) members back and write off his ‘attitude’ to his youth… and hed be horrified to know mac was from the capital wasteland lmao

maccready is way too young for shipping w richter but even if he wasnt i like him and tony so much cant we just let that be canon lmao

if they were both companions to a sosu at the same time richter would probably be grumpy ( but not as grumpy as he would if mac were older ) but when he realizes the other is capable and if they get their backs a few times hed probably be ok w it. i dont end up writing it a lot but in game richter is a bit snarky so i imagine some sosus might be pulling their hair out over the two at times lmao

[vitos-ordination-song]

i look back on horror at who i was as a child a lot bc it was bad and i did bad things. but just now i felt kind of fond of little me and proud. bc i did survive and i was smart. 

i got sparked thinking about this bc i was thinking back to being really little. really little, potty training and earliest memories. i was so motivated to be perfect and actually i was good at getting approval. it’s sad bc thats what shaped the bad part of me. at this deep level i learned i did not want to be punished or disapproved of and so i tried to distance myself from my brothers who were punished and compared negatively to me. 

it’s weird bc for so long i felt shame about this. when i was in high school i apologized to my brothers in tears bc theyd often been resentful of me when we were young and i felt guilty for being the baby who got away with things while they were punished. from like age 2 to age maybe 10 i had a p bad superiority complex borne out of this and i just felt like a bad person for it for a long time. plus i didnt fully break out of the mindset til i let go of inferiority/superiority. 

i do see that i was just a child but thats kinda the part that feels like a horror movie. if i think of it being a child who was in situations i was and doing things i did, it feels horrifying. so most of my thinking back on being a kid are kinda disturbing. 

but im kinda getting back in touch w the part of myself i love for the past few years. and you know i survived for a reason. bc i love life and there are parts of me that are strong. what i was thinking about that started all of this was the kind of two-sided split nature of my childhood. what actual form did it take. 

i was absolutely obsessive about adult approval. to a degree that was v annoying to other kids but worked. i didnt necessarily SHOW that i was obsessed w it and i dont think i was even thinking consciously about it. a lot of my memories go in this vein. like i was good at memorizing bc that was asked of me. i could intense laser focus on things and memorize them. i remember frantically memorizing Bible verses at age 5 to win the Bible verse memorizing competition which the adults put on.

all of my strengths i had to be best in and all of my weaknesses were sources of shame i tried to improve on. i took very seriously morality as it was taught to me and made a great show of following it. i was often what you could consider teachers pet and basked in any positive reinforcement thrown my way. 

i was addicted to avoiding punishment and seeking reward. it was a response to my highly behaviorist, authoritarian upbringing. my emotional state in relationship with adults could vary wildly depending on how they treated me. i had a teacher in fourth grade who seemed to dislike and undermine me, like she wanted to break me, and i internalized my idea of her to help shape myself into someone who she would like. and it mostly worked. 

the intensity of my ability to do stuff like this cannot be understated. i learned to totally supress my sensory problems because they made adults annoyed with me and might lead to punishment (also i had to learn to deal with them alone because i had no help). i learned how to present a certain type of acceptable personality. 

i should note that i learned to do this first because of my parents. i learned later, but very young, that i had been easy to potty train. i was often praised both for being intelligent but especially for being “easy” and obidient. the perfect child. as compared to my brothers who wet the bed and had to be punished for it. ive thought for a while that the reason i was so obsessed with being perfect in school is that my mother homeschooled me and my brother for kintergarden. she screamed at him for being stupid. never me. 

being better was being safe. so i became this person who had to follow all the rules and be best at everything and i always wanted to be assured that i had earned love by my behavior. 

but the oddest thing about this is that i was a totally anti-authority, rebellious, and single-minded child. this is how the split in my personality manifested when i was little. any time i sensed any kind of unfairness i was livid. i undermined authority figures behind their backs with other kids. i got around rules however i could. 

the thing was, i think, even when i was very little, was that i knew it was arbitrary. the authority my parents wielded over me and my siblings was incomprehensible. i couldnt follow it. i just knew that they were in charge so they could do what they wanted. they were inconsistent in their punishments and rewards. sometimes they punished you for nothing and sometimes you got away with doing something actually bad. they weren’t fair. they just made it up as they went along. 

i wanted to do what i wanted to do and really i felt no attachment to their judgment on it--at least this side of me didnt. and it goes back just as far, maybe farther, than the feeling of superiority or desire for approval. i think that came more as i became afraid of punishment. 

i have very young memories of defying my parents authority. i just wanted to get away with it. and i almost always did. 

it’s funny because my entire family has always judged me for that but now i look back with some admiration. i mean i was obsessing with how to get away with things in my youngest memories, like age 3. all throughout my childhood i broke the rules to do what i wanted. 

when i was thinking earlier, what came to me was that i always acted to get approval so that i could get away with things and do what i really wanted to do. my main occupation as a child was reading. i was approved of for it. i read so much! i was such a smart little girl! and i could get away with spending all my time away from people in another world, the world of my books. i was quiet and out of the way so i was a good child. and that was one of the main sources of happiness in my childhood, reading, escaping, learning, being somewhere else. 

i waged a warfare against authority quietly. i learned to give them what they want and then do whatever i wanted when they looked away. i did it all the time. the side of me that wanted approval and the one that wanted freedom were somewhat dissociated so i didnt even fully realize i was doing it. 

i think what caused a lot of the change was falling from grace. in my own eyes, in my projected, perceived vision of God, and in the eyes of adults. it happened around age 10 and 11. i went from a very high to very low opinion of myself quickly. i think some of it was having a teacher who simply did not and would not like me, who wanted me to be smaller. she didnt like that i was disorganized and said i had terrible handwriting. she wasnt cruel but she wanted to destroy me for my own good. she constantly put me down and made me a subject of ridicule in class. 

i was also thinking more about Christian morality. the more i learned about God and heard about sin the more i felt i was a sinner. i felt bare and stripped naked, disgusting before God. 

i had humbling experience after humbling experience--internally as i reflected on my behavior and externally though rejection by peers, failure in school, and adult disapproval. it wasnt possible for me to feel approved of, perfect anymore. i could only be bad. 

i kept going further and further with this until i was reborn and rejected all of it. i stopped being Christian and rejected God’s authority. Christianity was the only worldview i had ever been allowed to imagine. once i stopped believing in it i was separate from every person around me. i could not, as a human being, have anyone’s approval. 

i wasnt the golden child at school or at home any more. i started getting in trouble in ways i never would have before because i was more defiant openly. a teacher took my kindle from me in 8th grade and i was punished for stealing it back. i had used to never talk back to my parents but i started to. i was angry. the dynamics in my family shifted and sometimes i was the scapegoat, sometimes i was the one being screamed at, punished, hit the most. me and my siblings played hot potato for it. golden child shifted around too. but i would never be the favorite again. by the time my parents went back to fawning on me, when i was a successful college student, i had no taste for it. 

starting around age 13. i had to become my own internal source of approval, authority, and being. i started to parent myself. i developed an internal parent who nurtured me and i sought out a lot of media about good and loving parents. i cried alone all the time but when i was calming down, i would stroke my own hair and talk to myself. i thought for myself and made up my mind about things. i had my own internal sense of morality that wasnt based on punishment and rewards. that made me a better person. before i had broken any rule with no guilt. i did not consider right and wrong of the action, only likelihood of punishment or reward. when i was giving myself approval, /i/ had to approve of my actions. 

idk ive just rambled a lot but i guess ive been thinking tonight about how ive reacted to environments and how ive changed myself as a person. i have these moments, shorter periods in my life, where something totally shifts in me. but that doesnt make long term effects just go away. i still worry about approval and punishment. i still punish and reward myself. these things are ground into me. inferiority/superiority too. but i saw through them and i have changed.