Thursday I was texting with my friend Marie Furie, and we were talking about overcoming difficulties. Often, that requires a support network.
I have a big one, and wow it's hard to explain.
I can be sort of complicated. My little and I aren't entirely the same person. Then there's the weird connection I have with my other two heads of the Ghidrah. We're close in a way that defies description. (Even when time and distance keep us apart, as sometimes happens, the connection is evergreen. The second I get around sister, it's like no time has passed at all.)
Then there's my shark thing. I have a lot, way too many shark plushies. Many of them have names and personalities. I often talk to them and can sometimes hear them talk back.
I'm aware this is not entirely sane. That's really okay. The sensible part of my brain knows that the sharks, much like little mako, are a conveniently partitioned away dissociative segment of my overall mind. I'm like a weirdly fractured and useful cerebral Swiss Army knife.
At the very heart of this menagerie is my alpha shark, Chum.
There he is, with my friend Alice.
Chum does an incredibly thankless job for me. He's the seat of my insecurities. Whereas I'm bold, brash, and outspoken, he's timid, cautious, and fearful. I whisper to him the stuff on my mind, and he swallows it down, breaks it up, digests it.
Generally, much like Dorian Grey did with his picture, I keep Chum at home where he's safe. There are a very few places I will take him with me. At night, I cuddle him and we discuss the day. I look out for him. I take care of him, and he in turn takes care of me.
As I told Marie, I'm my own support network. It's a gift I'm grateful for.