real yet unreal

I apologize if this degenerates into nonsensical rambling at any point; I can't exactly structure these thoughts well but I need to write this down anyway. Data is important, when you can't remember things.

Anyway, here goes.

I keep trying to read about this tulpa thing and really it's just tearing my heart apart. Strange opening sentence, maybe, but it's true.

I can't wrap my mind around it, somehow. People are creating people. Customizing them, even. "I want you to look like this, act like this," et cetera. Fine-tuning exactly how they want these new individuals to exist.

I don't know how to explain it, but that's heartbreakingly terrifying to me.
Reason one: I don't know what the heck the "otherworldly people" in my life even are. Do they count as tulpae? If so, do I HAVE to "force" certain characteristics on them, and feed them these intentions daily, or watch them wither and die? Do I have a choice?
Reason two: why would you even want to create something like that?? It just... I can't comprehend it. Even as a writer, I could never understand when other writers would say "I'm going to make this character just like this, and then I'm going to do exactly this to him..."
Why do we keep playing god? Is that normal in those situations?? Do other people ACTUALLY create literary/ artistic characters according to their whims, and control the outcomes of their lives?? When I write, I just sit down and record what they tell me, what I've seen. If I try to change one word I get shouted at. "That's not what happened!"
Now I'm learning that people are creating tulpae, in a similar manner to how I've heard other people "create characters" to write about, and although I know it's not mandatory to be so precisely controlling over tulpae manifestation, it just... it bothers me. The whole idea just unsettles me.

Maybe I don't have the whole picture, but that's not important here. What's important right now is what I do know, how I know it, and what it's doing to me. I'll research this stuff to the point of obsession later, as usual. Right now, though, what matters is where I stand before all of that.

...What I wouldn't give to be able to see Genesis, or Chaos, or my daughter. What I wouldn't give. But now I feel like I'm being given an ultimatum: treat them like mental constructs, or watch them die.
I don't know why that's the thought in my head, but it's there, it's horrible and it won't go away.

But I'm laughing. It's a sick sort of laughter though.
Half of what I read applies to us, half of it doesn't apply at all.
I dissociate. I've been hearing voices since I was a child. I used to see things. I've never "consciously created" anything like a tulpa, and yet I have swarms of individuals in my life: in headspace, in accessible Leaguespace, literally sitting next to me on the couch right now, you name it. They've always been a part of my life, since I could first write and talk, and the ONLY one I "forced into existence" was named Julie. I was about seven. Once I grew older and she grew louder, she then proceeded to give me PTSD over the next decade. Let's leave it at that.


Genesis showed up in my living room one evening in 2005 ("ghosting"), the first person to ever do that. He can also go 'upstairs.'
Chaos started spending time with me of his own choosing, after I started visiting his world via my Links in 2003. He now 'ghosts' too.
Laurie showed up in a dream in 2006, and a few months later barged into headspace without warning, like she owned the place.
Infinitii was torn out of my ribcage in April, and although he can't quite ghost yet, I can physically discern his presence already.
And then there's my daughter, Xenophon. Ironically, she's the last person I'd ever "intend" to happen, but I love her dearly now that she's here.

Point is, I don't know what the heck I've been experiencing all my life, but feeling like there's only two options is killing me... they're either tulpae, or delusions, my brain says. Nice selection there.
All I know is that for years I've questioned their existence. For years I've repeated over and over, "they're not real, this isn't real, none of this is actually happening." I've said that for the good and bad ones alike. Guess what? Not a single one of them left. Some of them even got louder after that.
If I sit down and "intend" for one of them to change for 30 minutes straight, chances are they'll just laugh. "I'm not your plaything," and that whole line of thought. I've been there. Spent quite a few years there, actually, trying to convince myself it wasn't true. (It was.)

I see and hear and feel these people, but their existences are so strange that I'm afraid to acknowledge them sometimes, even after 23 years of a life in which they were always, always present in some way.
It breaks my heart because I love them, they've saved my life multiple times, and even the ones that have made my life hell have played their indispensable roles. And yet I struggle to admit they're real.
Then I log on to Tumblr and I see that people are just... creating people like this. They're literally willing people into existence, according to what they're comfortable with, or according to what they want.

And I'm sitting here knowing that if I'd been asked, half of the people I know wouldn't exist. If I had to create these people, I wouldn't have. Even the ones I love. I wouldn't have "created" them if you paid me.
It's such a struggle, sometimes. There are so many of them, there's so much attention and love they need from me, and I want to give it, but I'm too much of a mess to take care of my own freaking body at this point, how am I supposed to take care of you guys too? I want to, but I don't know how, and I'm sorry.
I'm so tired. Most days I want to just... leave everything.
But I can't find it in my heart to leave them. I never asked for them, but so help me God, I cannot fathom ever actually rejecting them.
There you go, guys. Put that confession aside for a rainy day, when I'm about to jump off a roof or experiment with sharp objects. I can't abandon you. I won't. Even when I'm all but dead, you guys give me a weird sort of hope. I mean, heck, there must be a reason you're still around me, right? Even after all this suffering and stupidity.
It's not as if you've ever been tied down, after all.


People are creating people. Geez.
If only it were always just that easy.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say anymore. Everything hurts, Genesis is giving me this terribly sad look, and I'm getting Infi's emotional overflow again. I want to cry because I'm exhausted. I can't tell if I'm sad anymore.

And it's stupid, so idiotically stupid, that even now-- even right now, after everything I've experienced-- I still keep insisting that this isn't real.
But it doesn't ever go away when I do that.
Screaming at it to change never works either.
What the heck is "real" anyway? Do I even know? Does anyone?

I don't understand anything right now.

063013

I just logged into J's computer and WHAT does he have on his internet history?
Suicide pills. Bloody suicide pills.
I just walked out of the freaking bathroom after realizing, I don't even remember how, that hey-- the body's bleeding! The heck is going on? Why the heck am I fronting with blood all over the place? It's definitely Razor's work, I'd recognize that maniac's trademark slashes anywhere.
Point is I am LIVID. I am absolutely enraged, not just because J is apparently PLANNING suicide, but also because he is obviously LETTING those bloodthirsty idiots downstairs do this to him.

So yeah. J doesn't know I'm updating. I don't care.
When you do read this, J, we're talking. This needs to stop, RIGHT NOW.
Just... damn it. I'm too angry to be hurt by this right now.
I'm not going to dwell on that. I have work to do.

I might be fronting for the rest of the night at this rate.
If that's the only thing I can do to protect him, then so be it.


-Laurie