u/Gamestrider09

So for context, I’m not a therapist, but I’m in psychology with the hopes of eventually becoming one, and the thought of giving therapy to a plural system has crossed my mind multiple times during classes but I’m actually not sure how an introject should be treated… so I figured best to ask here.

I assume this answer is likely different for fictives/factives who have a close or loose relationship with their source, but how should one go about handling them, validating them, and dealing with their trauma both incurred in this world and any existing trauma carried over from their source?

TLDR: I might want to get into tulpamancy, but I don’t have a good reason for wanting to start developing a tulpa and I’m not sure if I could handle it.

1. I’ve been into plurality for a while now, and honestly I think it’s just one of the coolest things. I love meeting fictives, I get jealous of systems who are heavy with them, and talking to headmates is never unpleasant for me. Honestly the thought of having my own alter was kind of enticing. (this isn’t a concern, I’m just giving background)

2. What prompted this idea of potentially developing a tulpa is just flatout one of the most random things to happen to me. My mind is all over the place sometimes and I generally don’t have coherent thoughts, but there was this instance a few weeks ago where something in my mind introduced itself as Jay. It may have been nothing and even been my own though and I just didn’t realize it, but it’s been on my mind since then. I haven’t been able to reach this Jay since either so I really don’t know.

3. I don’t have a good reason for wanting a tulpa. My reason for wanting one is that I want one. I’m not lonely, I’ve never had a real issue with being a singlet, and there’s no notable role a new person in my mind would fulfill, and I feel like that’s not a good enough reason to make a whole homebrew sentient being.

4. Again, sentient being. I don’t want to create someone and force them to live with me, especially not in their body and especially not in mine, with me. Plus having no real reason again feels wrong.

5. Attachment issues. If I develop a tulpa successfully and one day it just disappears or goes dormant and I’m alone again, I’m not sure how I would take it.

6. I have a very specific idea for how I would want plurality to work with me and I think it’s full of flaws, and if I were to successfully create a tulpa, it wouldn’t work out how I think/wish it would.

7. Commitment issues. I have horrendous task paralysis and I don’t like doing hard or long-term things, and I know tulpamancy is both of those things, so I feel like I won’t stick it out to develop a headmate.

8. I don’t know what I’m doing. No complicated explanation. I just don’t.

9. Social life. Having another person in my person would be a whole new complex social dynamic, and I’m not sure I want to be discovered if it works or if I can handle being treated differently as a system. Additionally, I don’t know if I could handle the disruption in my life as it is.

10. Im not sure I want this badly enough to warrant creating a whole new life for again, no good reason.

This is less me actually asking for help and more just me vomiting my thoughts out loud, I just don’t know what to think and if this is worth pursuing.

So my friend is trying to write his own post-apocalypse story centered around this guy Michael. It’s a pretty typical revenge story, and he’s already a John Wick-type character in terms of the amount of damage he causes, but at multiple points in the story he blacks out and then regains consciousness minutes later, realizing that while he was out he beat everyone around him to death with his bare hands.

Neither of us had an idea to actually explain this for a while, but my friend decided to propose (after hyperfixating on Moon Knight) that Michael would have DID, and the blackout period was a more violent alter taking over.

He knows concerningly little about DID, and I want to advise him in writing this into the story, but I also feel unqualified to do so as another singlet. Is there any way to write this trait into his character correctly or is there a better, less complicated explanation we could use for the blackouts?

I genuinely think I’m imagining this or making it up and not realizing but I remember being in my own thoughts (mind you they’re very rarely linear or coherent, and I always stage conversations with myself) and I don’t know if it was my thought or not but I swear during my thoughts my monologue named itself Jay. It’s literally just me and my monologue is just my voice but the naming thing is weird!

I’m positive I’m not a plural or anything it’s just been on my mind a whole lot lately and I’m not sure what just happened. it was a weird occurrence and it hasn’t repeated itself but I’ve been thinking about it for the last few days. I’m still pretty sure it’s me but I’m a little weirded out by this if that makes sense.

I hadn’t seen New York City before tonight.

Not really, anyway. Yeah, I knew what it was, and I’d seen it on TV, but I’ve never seen it in person. Hadn’t thought the city to be very impressive before, but here, tonight, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

The Five Boroughs were painted in a rainbow of flashing colors as elaborate spectacles of patterned explosives peppered the skies, turning night into day and forming a haze of smoke among the golden skyscrapers. Air quality regulations had been relaxed for the day, and the fireworks show had been going on for nearly two hours now.

It was earned. We had won.

The greatest war in history just had ended.

Even now, from my lofty view, I still could see the crowds parading in the streets below, waving American, Terran, and Galactic Union flags. Cheers and cracks of confetti poppers echoed up the buildings to reach us. Soldiers and civilians had been out there all day, and would likely still be there well into tomorrow.

Up here, though, in one of the highest towers, most of the partygoers had gone home. A couple of hushed conversations carried across the massive room as the last guests—in military uniforms and glistening dresses—slowly filed out and turned in for the night. I was left there swirling my empty drink while lights dimmed, and all the noise faded, save for the faint booms beyond the great window.

Save for a slow, rhythmic tap of approaching footsteps.

I smiled to myself and turned to face the nearing Korellan woman, knowing her immediately by her timing and the sound of her shoes. Arsekhi looked just as party-worn as I was but she still carried a satisfied look on her cerulean face. Only she could manage a smile like that after the exhaustion of today. Her mouth curled upwards into a grin, and I braced for the prepared smug remark.

“I see the Hero of the Colonies has found his dramatic side.”

I glanced at the drink she carried, bubbles still fizzing at the salt-lined rim of the glass. “And I you still haven’t learned the definition of ‘last call.’”

She let out a short, surprisingly sober laugh and waved the transparent goblet in front of me. “Oh, Gods no, this is virgin. I’m too old for the real stuff anymore. Plus, this Earth shit kills my kidneys.”

Now it was my turn to laugh.  “Didn’t know peacetime would make you boring so fast.”

She made a mock gasp and pretended to be hurt by my comment. “Ouch. Easy, colonel. I didn’t know peacetime would give you that kind of tongue. You know, I haven’t lost all my fun yet.”

“That’s because you haven’t lost all your orange yet,” I returned. “I think the color change made you mellow.” Her shoulders began to shake as she took a long sip from her drink.

The Korellans were one of the most unique species in the Union. Their towering forms had come a long way from their insect origins, but still kept a few notable qualities, specifically metamorphosis. They changed color, among other things, five different times over their lives. Four months ago, Arsekhi had wrapped herself in chrysalis and come out a cooler color, with a slightly wiser mannerism. I had mostly known her in a fiery hue, though, with a matching personality. Nowadays, all that was left of her old orange color had gathered in a fading streak on her forehead.

During the war, she had been my best friend. We had been complete strangers during the opening offensives, but being trapped under a wrecked transport for forty-something hours had facilitated some rapid bonding. After that, we were there for each other at almost every major battle. I was only alive because of her, and she was only alive because of me.

“Plus,” Arsekhi continued, “drinking had benefits during the war.”

I shook my head. “You know the myth that alcohol neutralized Mandate nanites was complete BS, right?”

“And it was some damn fun BS at that…” She turned to look at the fireworks. “You always drank harder than me, though.”

I chewed the corner of my lip and looked away. “Yeah, but I had a valid reason for that.”

The amusement faded from her expression, and she withdrew her lighthearted mannerism, sensing she had refreshed some bad memories. “Yeah… hey, are you doing alright? I know the war hasn’t been over that long, but you just seem… tired.”

I sighed quietly. “Can you blame me?” She shook her head in response.

The Mandate War had gone on for twenty years, in several distinct phases, but remembering it now, it all seemed to blend together. I had been in near-nonstop active duty since it began. ‘Shore leave’ may as well have been a foreign custom. Poster boy status was the only thing that let me stay on, despite every recommendation.

It had taken a toll, and the two decades of fatigue had finally caught up to me. I wasn’t sure I had even fully processed the war was over.

I had to change the subject. “You have any ideas of what you’re gonna do now that you aren’t on tour?” I asked.

She swirled her drink around some before answering. “Yeah, a lot of fiscally irresponsible ideas. Throwing boilstarch at a wall and seeing what sticks… nothing firm yet. It has only been a day, after all, if that.”

She had a point. I wasn’t even sure the fighting had truly stopped. The Mandate machine-mind had collapsed, but there was word of feral cyber-soldiers attacking occupation officers, and the Colonies were still in anarchy. The struggle hadn’t ended by any means. Not by a long shot. The faint aches in my body suddenly felt worse.

“How about you?” she asked.

I told her. “Honestly, haven’t got a clue… can’t remember anything but the fight. Not sure I’m ready to reenter civil society.”

She let out an amused huff and gave a half-nod in agreement. “You’re a soldier. It’s only natural. Not like we have the skillsets for social clubs anyway. I think I’d prefer assimilation again over a VFW meeting.”

I took another sip of my drink to hide my smile and avoid giving her the satisfaction of making a point, realizing only after I made the motion that it was still empty, provoking another chuckle from her. I sighed. “I’m just not ready for everything to change.”

Arsekhi arched an eyebrow and let me continue, a look of neutral interest on her face.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the war is over, it’s just… I’ve been in the Marines since I was old enough to join. I’ve spent more of my life in the fight than I have out of it.” Even as I talked, some of the medals on my uniform clinked and reminded me of how true that was. “When we were at war, I always knew what had to happen and how it had to happen. Everything was laid out, and I knew what to expect… and now—we were at each other’s throats before the Mandate showed up. Are we just gonna go back to that?”

I took a long pause as my thoughts flickered back to how the Union had been before the war started. If the Mandate hadn’t happened upon itself, the Union probably would have collapsed into civil war all on its own. It still might. That wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, even now. “Once all this euphoria wears off, we’re going to start sizing each other up again… I don’t know what’s going to happen then, but it worries me.”

Arsekhi didn’t seem to entirely agree, but she did understand. She walked up to my side and placed a cool-skinned hand on my shoulder epaulette, turning me gently back towards the window. Her voice took on a calm, counseling tone.

“You’re afraid. I get it.” She took a long pause as a spattering of green blossomed over Central Park. “Korellan lives are all about change. Human lives are too; you just fight it so much… but you can’t stop change from coming. It’s natural. I mean, just look around.” She gestured her glass out at the New York skyline. “This city used to be a heart of culture and commerce on Earth. Now, there’s so little of its old self left, but it still stands a beautiful city. It survived wars, revolutions, depressions, floods—it’s a testament to Human adaptability. You can turn change into something phenomenal.”

She then turned to face me before resuming, and I looked up to meet her eyes. “We can’t stop the boat from flowing downstream… but we can steer it to calmer waters. Mankind won this war. You’re going to be a big part of what comes after the fireworks stop.”

I looked down and away. She was right. A moment passed, and she patted me on the shoulder. “You’re a war hero. You’ve got a lot of influence and a lot of potential. Hell, you could become the next President if you wanted to. You don’t want the future to be worrisome, don’t let it be,” she said. “This next chapter of history will be written by you.”

After a long moment of silence, she smiled at me again. “Plus, I’m not just gonna let you sit on your ass for the next fifty years and collect medals.”

I broke from my contemplation to give her a light shove with one hand, chuckling, and she let go of me. “Aww, you were just starting to sound wise there,” I said.

Arsekhi patted my arm in return and took a few steps back. “Like you said, I haven’t lost all my orange yet.”

I swirled my empty drink again and looked back at the fireworks show. She watched with me for a few moments, before giving an affectionate squeeze to my shoulder. I heard her familiar footsteps begin to retreat. “Enjoy your night, Mr. President.”

I watched her leave, and I turned back to see the final crescendo of explosions in the darkness.

“Mr. President.”

I liked the sound of that.

Asking for my own curiosity, I’ve heard introjects describe their experiences in various ways, the most common being an isekai-like experience where they suddenly found themselves in whatever system they’re a part of.

I’m wondering if a lot of introjects experience issues with the system vessel they reside in, especially if they front, and if they ever miss their homes/sourceworlds? I can guess the answer but I want to get a better, wider understanding of how it affects fictives, factives, and others of similar origins. Hope that makes sense and it’s not too personal.

So I’m a singlet, but I’ve lately been very fascinated by systems and I’ve enjoyed talking with them very much, asking questions to expand my knowledge, and just chatting with headmates.

However, I’m worried I may be starting to come across too strong or too obsessed and I’m starting to get creepy. I found a post made by a system I had been chatting with, and answered a question asked to them for them, and they’ve since informed me it was almost creepy.

To be fair, they forgave me and said they’d seen worse, while asking me to not do it again, but I am worrying I’m getting too excited or too involved. This also wouldn’t be a first, because I have a habit of doing this and/or overcommitting the wrong way to a social thing.

Im wondering if there’s something any of you have experienced of someone being interested in your system in a creepy way, and if there’s any advice you might have to not be as disturbing?

So I adopted they/them pronouns a couple months ago, but I generally never made a deal of it outside groups like my D&D club, and I still get addressed with gendered pronouns. I haven’t directly told anyone else I know about it because I didn’t know if it would just end up being a temporary thing and worried I wouldn’t be taken seriously.

Anyway, I started wearing a bracelet with enby colors on it in recent weeks, and I’m pretty sure one of my friends noticed without me bringing it up, because she referred to me as “they” during a talk in one of my friend groups. Nothing special, but it just made me happy.