As often happens, it’s hard to figure where to start tonight, as I have several things to write about -- my wolf nature being one of them, so I’ll start there.
The more I’ve been delving into my novel again, the more my wolf side has been coming to the forefront of my psyche.
Last Wednesday I had the strongest mental shift into my wolf mindset that I’ve had in a very long time. It was almost overwhelmingly powerful, and when it occurred, I had trouble thinking straight for a long time.
It took place while I was with my kids at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. They have two wolf exhibits there, both very realistically done. One has a mated pair of arctic wolves looking at a nearby herd of musk oxen, who are backed into a defensive position. The other has a pack of about a half dozen wolves all together looking into the distance at a herd of caribou. I kneeled next to both dioramas and let my mind flow into them, seeing the wolves and the prey and feeling as if I was there. The one with the pack affected me the strongest. I felt as if I was truly there, like I had left my human existence and become the wolf that I am at heart.
My kids were very understanding, as both of them sometimes experience similar things.
The next night, I had a dream in which I was human, but I was with a pack of thin, half-starved wolves who looked like cartoon representations. At one point I saw a hawk flying overhead and I called to it, and it came down and almost lighted on my outstretched arm, making me sure that it knew me.
A few days ago, I spent several hours before bed talking with my novel’s editor about how the last two chapters should potentially play out. We met online years ago back when the novel was just a short story, and he offered to critique it. He’s also a wolf therianthrope, and over time we fell in love and planned to get married. That never happened for a variety of reasons. For one, I’m more than 20 years older than he is (which would make me a cougar. Rowl! *grins*). Also, he’s devoutly Christian, and I’m very Pagan (although we both do shamanic work – and yes, he’s integrated Christianity and working with spirit guides, and I greatly admire him for that). Both of those could have been handled with love, however. The problem that killed the marriage plans in the end was the fact he needs to stay in Kentucky managing his parents’ business, and I won’t move away from the Denver area because of my children. He and I still love each other very dearly, however, both as humans and as wolves.
He’s my wolf mate, by the way. And I mean that in the truest sense. We’ve shared dreams in which we’re both wolves, and we discussed them the next day, having shared the same experiences. And we’ve repeatedly shared shamanic trances during the years, during which we’ve been together as wolves, and we’ve not only mated but raised several litters of cubs. The experience of giving birth to my first litter was detailed in one of the chapters of my novel, but I have the protagonist experiencing it. We had two litters during the springs since then as well. We’ve explored together as a pack, hunted together, played together, slept together and killed together. The memories of that life goes beyond human words.
Human.
*sighs*
That’s what I’ve largely been in my mind the last two years. In early 2008, I returned to SecondLife after a long absence. I soon became hooked, and it took over my mind, to the detriment of both my wolf nature and my novel writing.
But now my novel is coming alive again. And so is my wolf mindset.
I kept getting hit by hard mental shifts into lupine thought patterns during the morning after my long talk with my editor/mate. My Master noticed after awhile and asked if something was wrong, and I told him what I was experiencing, and he patted me on the head and said, “Nice doggy.”
Master understands having spirit guides. He has several, and he takes them very seriously. He also have very distinct past-life memories.
But I don’t think he really understands the idea of species dysphoria. Of the idea that my spirit isn’t fully human. And so I think he doesn’t quite know how to treat me when I bring the matter up.
I’ve been finding that confusing situations are becoming more and more troublesome for me. Places with too many lights and noises. Situations that require my human mind to handle a lot of input. Saturday night was extremely busy at the Sanctuary BDSM club, and I was a crying wreck by the time we left. This morning, Master sat me down to explain a lot of things related to computers and the daily schedule and using a note-saving device on my computer and arranging the monthly calendar and deciding the week’s menu and … I overloaded. By the end of the conversation, I could barely think straight, and I wound up bawling in his arms. Master told me to drink some tea and take some time off. He was very understanding. But then I messed up something while preparing tonight’s meal (it needed two red peppers and I had only gotten one), and I started crying because I was afraid that Master wouldn’t trust my abilities, and he had told me this morning how valuable it was that he could rely on me to get things done right. Master saw me and comforted me again, and eventually things settled down, but all in all today I wasn’t exactly the most emotionally stable person around.
The thing is, when it was all over but I was still tense, I went to my room to rest, and I realized exactly what I wanted.
To run. Fast and free. Through fields and forests.
As a wolf.
*sighs*
I have no doubt my feeling of being a wolf today was heightened by the fact that I spent hours last night reading books related to the “Werewolf: the Apocalypse” roleplaying game. The books are often written as if they’re real, and they bring out a very strong emotional response in me. In particular, I identify with a werewolf tribe known as the Red Talons, who are all wolf-born werewolves who despise the fact that humans have taken over the world. I sought out roleplaying groups to play the game several years ago. Not everybody feels comfortable with somebody playing a Red Talon and taking it seriously, like I did.
“Werewolf: the Apocalypse,” by the way, was a roleplaying game about various tribes of werewolves who were fighting against the coming destruction of the world by an insane deity bent on corrupting life through pollution and evil. It had quite a bit of shamanism alongside very strong environmental issues, and I loved it.
The thing is, I truly identify with the Red Talons. I see humanity as a disease. I loathe my human body.
The Red Talons supplement had me laughing in places and crying in others. The place where I cried was the description of a character who experienced her first change into a werewolf after a tragic event in her life. I’m crying now as I write this. Entitled “Autumn Wolf,” here’s the description: “Born in a splendid forest, you remember hunting rabbits in the woods with your brothers and sisters as a pup. You remember watching leaves fall during your first autumn and the smell of the forest change as the air grew c older. You remember the hunger as snow covered the land and howling mournfully because you thought you’d never eat again, and then the joy as spring returned and the prey emerged to feed you. But most of all, you remember the machines. They came as the leaves fell during your second autumn. You never actually saw them move, but you wandered from a copse of trees and saw what was left of the forest. It was bare as a meadow – worse, because meadows house mice and rabbits to eat. This housed nothing, just the burned stumps of trees and the bodies of any creature left in the way … and fallen leaves. And looking in horror over the shattered remains of your home, you howled in anguish. As the howl wound down, you found yourself screaming with a human throat.”
I can understand the idea of that wolf very, very deeply.
The place where I laughed might be disturbing to some people. It was the description of a particular character with a taste for human flesh, and what it was like for them to experience their first change from a wolf into a werewolf. It was only a brief laugh, I have to say, and it didn’t affect me nearly as deeply as the description of the other wolf, but it’s possibly worth mentioning: “Born on the outskirts of a city, you and your meager pack foraged for food in human garbage. You ate what and when you could, avoided the humans, and lived your life. It wasn’t much, but it was all you knew, even if something inside you yearned for more. And then one night, a pack of humans came for your pack with thunder and fire, and slew all of them except you. You ran, but then a bullet sheared one of your paws away. As the humans approached, you wished that you could have eaten that day. Another crack of thunder and bite of pain, and all thoughts of food were gone. You erupted into a whirlwind of blood and fury, and tore the humans to pieces. When your fury was spent, you remembered how hungry you were. You don’t hate humans in the same way as many Talons do. You understand that they need to be destroyed, but would prefer to corral them into herds somehow so they don’t go to waste. After all , they’ve made such a mess of the land, they should have a hand in cleaning it up, even if it’s just by donating their screams.”
Yeah. I’m a bit twisted in ways. Such is life, and me, and being a wolf in a human body.
On a final note, there was a little bit of silliness … and not so silliness … at dinner tonight.
Master was talking about cheese, and I mentioned head cheese (which is made from the residue of the boiled remains of a pig’s head), and Master said it disgusted him and he’d make me eat some if I brought it up again, and I told him I’d probably enjoy it because I’ve eaten three mice before, heads and all and … Master stopped, cocked his head and wanted to know what I was talking about.
About five years ago, when I was new to the realization that my therianthropy was real, and I was letting my wolf nature come out with full force, I’d often find myself craving to eat rodents and other small animals I’d encounter on woodland hikes. Of course I couldn’t catch them, and even if I could, I knew my human body wouldn’t be able to handle their diseases and such. So I meditated about it, and I felt Coyote encourage me to try a different approach – using “feeder” mice from a pet shop (mice bred to be used as live food for boa constrictors and other large snakes). And I did it three times. I had my own office, and I would get a mouse, let it loose in my office, then, about lunchtime I would stalk the mouse as it scurried around the room. Then, with a pounce, I would clamp my jaws around its back and neck, squeeze tight and break its body, shake it in my teeth until it was dead, and then swallow it whole. It was an incredible experience that felt so wonderfully natural and normal. I stopped only because I eventually found out that there’s a high rate of salmonella in feeder mice.
Master thought that was rather strange, of course, but the conversation moved to other things.
After dinner, however, while I was eating some leftovers in the kitchen, M’Lady asked me why I often take my food there alone instead of sitting next to her to eat, and after thinking about it I told her that I think it's my canine instincts to take my kill and eat it away from the rest of the pack. M'Lady (who knows that I believe I have a spiritual connection to wolves) responded that maybe I could take it under the dining room table for that, and I smiled and said I didn't because I was afraid I'd get the food on the rug, and Master said he could put a tarp down for that, and I asked very happily if that means he might start feeding me from a bowl on the floor, and he said he hadn't given it a lot of thought but now that he realizes how seriously I'd enjoy that, he'll consider it.
Later I asked him again about it, and he again said he’d never thought about the idea of puppy play, although he knew I was seriously into the idea of ponyplay. I’m thinking he wouldn’t be too keen to the idea because, to be honest, it doesn’t exactly fit into the idea of a Victorian household. Oh well. We’ll see.
Well, tonight’s post turned out to be primarily about one topic – my wolf nature. To be honest, I could have talked about that for a long, long time. It’s who I am, and who I have been since childhood. And who I’ll be the rest of my life.
La kajira.
Showing posts with label Therianthropy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Therianthropy. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Day 95 - On Having a Wolf Spirit, On Connecting to My Daughter Spiritually, On Playing a Fantastic (and Free) Game Called The Marionette, and On Having an Uneventful Few Days as a Slave
(Before I go any further, I absolutely have to highly recommend downloading a short but totally free adventure game called “The Marionette.” It’s both very eerie and very beautiful, and believe me when I say you won’t waste your time playing it. More on it later.)
Nothing really noteworthy (at least, regarding my life as a slave) has happened since the last time I wrote, so I figure this time I’ll talk about therianthropy and my wolf spiritual nature, which got me interviewed on The History Channel last year.
Life as a slave in Master’s household has been pretty routine since my last post. I’m finding to my disappointment that, although he’s an expert in numerous activities in the BDSM community, and although he’s considered a very respected Master, and although he keeps telling me he’s a Sadist … he doesn’t really do anything kinky with me.
Mistress was more fun, without a doubt.
To make matters worse, Master has been sick the last few days, and has felt like all the energy has been sucked right out of him.
Oh, well. That’s the life of a slave. It’s not supposed to be about fun. It’s supposed to be about service. And that’s what I do. And it’s supposed to be about being owned. And that’s what Master does to me. Own me.
Oh, I love being a slave, without a doubt. And it often is fun.
I’m getting better at cooking rather quickly. That’s because I cook for Master and M’Lady almost every night.
And when I told Master I love to make sushi, he almost ran to his computer to order me some sushi books, and Friday we’re going to get the ingredients and have me make it for everybody.
Eventually, he said, he wants me to handle all the cooking. He wants me to familiarize myself with the main cookbooks, to learn what he and M’Lady prefer regarding tastes and dishes, and to become in charge of the kitchen in such a way that the only time they have to think about food is when I’m announcing that dinner (or lunch) is ready to be served.
Sounds great to me! I’ve always wanted to be a professional chef! Give me a year here, and I’ll be ready for the Food Network. *chuckles*
Or maybe a new reality show … “Who Wants to Be a Kajira?”
*giggles*
Anyway … even my day with my kids on Sunday was rather pedestrian. And a bit of a bummer. My daughter wanted to see me so much she went outside to the front porch and waited for me more than two hours before I was scheduled to arrive. Neither my ex nor I knew that she was out there, watching each car, hoping it was me. After I arrived, I kept getting pulled back and forth between her and my son and my ex, who needed my help in writing a presentation for a microbiology class. Not that I know much about microbiology, but I do know how to edit and write well.
And all through it, my daughter kept wanting me to focus on her.
I did get to go on a hike with her (by herself), and I stayed until she went to bed, and I kissed her goodnight with a promise that when I visit tomorrow I’ll give her my undivided attention. My ex and my son both agreed that was a good idea, so the day ended on a good note. Actually, it was a pretty good day overall, but just a bit lackluster in so far as any particular achievements.
So, as I said I’d talk about, regarding my spiritual nature … I’m a wolf in a human body.
Yeah. You heard me. If you’re shaking your head and saying I’m a total loon, I’m not surprised. To be honest, I wouldn’t believe it except for the fact that all the experiences related to it have happened to me.
Actually, I did think I was nuts for a long time (decades, in fact) until about five or so years ago, when I told somebody about my experiences, and they told me I was most likely a “therian.” When I asked in surprise for more details, they directed me to The Werelist, which is a very mature (and very sane) Website for adults to talk rationally about their therianthropic-related experiences. It was on that site that I realized I wasn’t alone, and that I wasn’t insane. People from all walks of life, scientists to retail workers, Christians to atheists to shamans, all have experienced it.
I talk about my own experiences on one of the pages of a Website I wrote several years ago. I’ll copy the pertinent sections to the bottom of today’s blog.
For now, though, here’s a nutshell definition …
Most people have heard of gender dysphoria. That’s where a person feels they’re a woman in a man’s body or a man in a woman’s body. Basically, a person feels as if their body’s self identity doesn’t match their body’s physical features.
Take the same concept and apply it to the idea of species.
Imagine feeling you’re a cat in a human body. Or a dog in a human body. Or some non-human animal in a human body. Imagine feeling as if you should have a tail, and your legs and body and skull should be shaped differently. Imagine feeling it so powerfully that your muscles try to compensate in painful ways.
Imagine your thought processes changing so that you don’t think like a human, and instead you start experiencing canine-related instincts. In some cases, you forget how to read, and instead see the letters as shapes of black and white. Or you might get where you can’t figure out how to turn a doorknob because you don’t remember how to use your thumb. Or you might find you can’t speak coherently, and you automatically growl at somebody who antagonizes you.
Those two experiences are among the cornerstones of therianthropy. They’re known as “shifts”, with the first one (the physical dysphoria) being called a “phantom shift” (in reference to people who feel “phantom” limbs after they’ve been amputated), and the second is called a “mental shift.”
I’ve experienced it all my life.
My parents had to install deadbolts on the doors at my family home because of it. I grew up on a ranch in Texas, and during the middle of the night when the coyotes and wolves would howl, as a young child I would often get out of bed and run outside to be in the yard and fields. I believe I was called to the wild canines, that I searched for them, that the howls spoke to me instinctually. I’ll never know because I don’t actually remember doing it, and I heard about my activities years later from my parents.
I very possibly might have been sleepwalking. I’ve exhibited wolf-related behavior while under sedation even as an adult.
About a year ago I had to undergo jaw surgery. The next day my surgeon told me that when the anesthetic was starting to wear off, and I was still basically unconscious and not in control of my actions, I started whimpering and growling at the orderlies around me. At one point, people from around the clinic came rushing to the hallway near where I was because they thought there was a dog or wolf in the building. It was me, howling loudly, my voice echoing through the rafters. I don’t remember any of it, but all of the clinic’s staff did, and they let me know about it. *smiles*
I grew up in a conservative Christian family, but I’ve always known without a doubt I’m an animal in a human body. I would experience those shifts and not understand them or know who to talk to about them.
It was only recently that I let my daughter know about my nature. I didn’t want to tell her about my therianthropy at first because I didn’t want her to pick up the idea from me. She experienced it on her own, however, and firmly believes she’s a cat in a human body … and she’s not shy about the fact at all. It’s causing her trouble in school, just like it did with me. My teachers would let my parents know of my fixation. My daughter’s principal has officially barred her from pretending to be a cat at school, particularly after she scratched somebody with her “claws.” She’s going through what I went through, and I realized recently, after talking about the situation with Master, that my daughter needs to know she can confide with me. She needs to know that she’s not alone.
I don’t want her to go through decades of thinking her experiences were crazy. My ex, however, does think they’re crazy, and as a result tries everything possible to get my daughter to focus on other things.
It’s why I believe my daughter has recently become so very attached to me. Because I take her seriously. And she knows it.
And it’s another reason she and I are so much looking forward to seeing each other again tomorrow. *grins*
Oh … the History Channel. Well, last year a representative of the History Channel asked around on the Werelist to see if anybody was interested in talking about their experiences for a television program about the history of werewolves. A few of us volunteered in different parts of the country. I met the film crew in downtown Denver, and we went to a park, and they interviewed me for hours in a very open and respectful way. A couple of months later they flew me to Washington, D.C., and interviewed me again. They were very scientific and curious, and I felt very good about the results.
Then the program got shown a few days before Halloween this year. The editors of it ignored all the questions they asked me. They ignored what they had asked other people. Instead, they grabbed a few seconds out of an interview with a therian on the board and took it totally out of context in such a way as to make the guy look pretty darn nuts. Everybody on the Werelist was disgusted. The good result, though, is now a lot of Therians are getting together to film their own documentary about the community, and they plan to broadcast it on YouTube. That should rock, and I wish them the best of luck!
Before I head out for the night, I want to mention again “The Marionette,” that free video game I noted at the very beginning of this post. The game tells a very haunting story about a ghost who wants revenge on an artist. Who the ghost is and why she’s doing it is told in a deeply captivating way that struck a deep chord in me. It spoke directly to things in my own life. I want to tell more, but it would spoil the nuances of the storyline, so I’ll just again encourage everybody to download it and play it for themselves. You should note, by the way, that there are four different possible endings, and which ending you get depends upon your actions during the game (particularly at the very end).
That game took up pretty much all of my free time during the last couple of evenings, but it was well worth it.
*smiles*
So, for now, and as always …
La kajira!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Therianthropy, species dysphoria, and my life as a dog
I'm a wolf in a human body.
No joke. No roleplaying. It's real.
I'm a therianthrope -- one of many people around the world who believe they have the soul (or self identity) of a non-human animal species.
I've often felt that I'm not human, at least in a spiritual sense, ever since I was a young child. I've never really understood the nuances of human society, and I've always been pulled toward the wildness of nature, as if I have lived there, as if it should be my habitat instead of the structures of modern-day civilization.
I often experience what some have labeled "species dysphoria." As people with "gender dysporia" report feeling that their physical body does not match their mental gender, I feel my physical body does not match my mental species. If I had my choice, I would be what I feel I should be – a female wolf, living on the plains, chasing rodents for dinner and raising litters of puppies in a safely secluded den.
It’s with me all the time, from when I wake up until I sleep. Even then, I sometimes remember dreaming I am a wild canine, running free. It is definitely not a game, nor is it something I chose to be. I am a wolf because I am a wolf, and I have felt it in my soul for many years, even when it made no sense to me spiritually. It is not because I love wolves or think they’re cool or want an escape from my boring job or want to feel “different” other people. I am what I am because I am that way, and I’m that way all the time, whether I want to be or not.
I often do not understand (or, at least, agree with) the ways and morals of human society, and as a result I have very few friends with whom I feel I can share my inner thoughts. I see humans as simply another species – actually, a very destructive species that needs to be reigned in before it destroys more of the planet – and I do not see humanity itself as being any better or more valuable than most other animals on this planet. I find myself uninterested in most music and popular media, simply because I don’t understand the appeal. My free time is largely spent hiking in natural areas (as far from humans as possible), meditating or studying spirituality, and while I find myself feeling quite lonely at times, I don’t crave the company of most humans. Even my spouse (who is not a therianthrope) and I have problems because of my spiritual identity – not because of a problem with the idea, but because we don’t share my non-human impulses, and our outlook on the very nature of life and existence diverges substantially at times.
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FYI, "Mental shifting" is the common term used for the therianthropic experience of psychologically becoming one's inner animal. It is one of several types of "shifts" a therianthrope might experience. Other types include "phantom shifts" (in which one either mentally or physically feels a limb or body part that does not exist) and "dream shifts" (in which one becomes their inner animal while dreaming). It should be noted that not all therians experience every type of shift. It should also be noted that no therianthrope has ever "physically shifted" into their inner animal -- or if they have, they have not provided reliable proof to other therians or the world at large.
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Mental shifting into your inner animal
... A personal perspective
Although I haven't had two-day non-stop mental shifts (which at least one therian I know has experienced), I have had ones that have lasted for hours.
Several very intense hours.
Hours in which I wasn't human.
Oh, yeah, maybe physically, but not mentally. Every inch of my body that didn't correlate with a similar part on a feral canine (my inner animal a.k.a. " phenotype”) felt foreign and unnatural.
Imagine that your brain doesn't feel like it's wired for rational thought, and you find yourself living in the moment, constantly alert for movement, your thoughts arranged around your existence as it relates to you now, with the past and future being unreal (and unimportant) concepts.
Imagine that human speech becomes almost incomprehensible, like trying to make sense of a language you knew as a child, and it is almost painful to force your mind to attempt to understand it.
Imagine that every step you take feels awkward because you know you should be able to run better and faster on four feet, and you don't really understand why you can't.
Imagine finding your automatic desires and tastes conflicting with nagging thoughts telling you they don't fit with the needs (and limitations) of your human physical body.
Imagine not considering other humans as your same species any more than you consider a cockroach or a sparrow to be your same species.
You are a wolf -- or another animal -- during those times.
At least, that's what I experience.
In human terms, I become almost autistic. I wouldn’t say I become unemotional. But I would say that my emotions when I’m shifted toward my animal mindset are different than what I experience when I’m shifted toward my human mindset.
When I experience my heaviest shifts, my basic thought patterns are not the same as otherwise. I’m not just a human “feeling wolfy.”
And if I’m forced to come out of it quickly, it can be a very jarring and mentally unpleasant experience. And if I then have to rapidly call upon the overly rational parts of my human brain and associated memories, I feel as if I’m bending my head out of shape, and that it wants to go back to the other, more natural, way of thinking.
Probably the main reason I’ve never experienced multi-day shifts is because I have a spouse who is non-therian and I have two rambunctious kids, all of whom seem to do whatever they can to disengage my thoughts whenever they’re around me. But I still occasionally get the opportunity for solitude. And sometimes it results in those kinds of shifts. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to go camping by myself for several days in the wilderness, and I can fully experience a multi-day shift without interruption. That might be quite interesting.
Some may think that coming out of an intense shift might make me feel emotionally drained. But actually, it’s usually quite the opposite. I feel more alive and energetic than at most other times. But I also don’t feel very human. And, more importantly, I don’t think very human. At least, what passes for “normal human” in our culture.
Nothing really noteworthy (at least, regarding my life as a slave) has happened since the last time I wrote, so I figure this time I’ll talk about therianthropy and my wolf spiritual nature, which got me interviewed on The History Channel last year.
Life as a slave in Master’s household has been pretty routine since my last post. I’m finding to my disappointment that, although he’s an expert in numerous activities in the BDSM community, and although he’s considered a very respected Master, and although he keeps telling me he’s a Sadist … he doesn’t really do anything kinky with me.
Mistress was more fun, without a doubt.
To make matters worse, Master has been sick the last few days, and has felt like all the energy has been sucked right out of him.
Oh, well. That’s the life of a slave. It’s not supposed to be about fun. It’s supposed to be about service. And that’s what I do. And it’s supposed to be about being owned. And that’s what Master does to me. Own me.
Oh, I love being a slave, without a doubt. And it often is fun.
I’m getting better at cooking rather quickly. That’s because I cook for Master and M’Lady almost every night.
And when I told Master I love to make sushi, he almost ran to his computer to order me some sushi books, and Friday we’re going to get the ingredients and have me make it for everybody.
Eventually, he said, he wants me to handle all the cooking. He wants me to familiarize myself with the main cookbooks, to learn what he and M’Lady prefer regarding tastes and dishes, and to become in charge of the kitchen in such a way that the only time they have to think about food is when I’m announcing that dinner (or lunch) is ready to be served.
Sounds great to me! I’ve always wanted to be a professional chef! Give me a year here, and I’ll be ready for the Food Network. *chuckles*
Or maybe a new reality show … “Who Wants to Be a Kajira?”
*giggles*
Anyway … even my day with my kids on Sunday was rather pedestrian. And a bit of a bummer. My daughter wanted to see me so much she went outside to the front porch and waited for me more than two hours before I was scheduled to arrive. Neither my ex nor I knew that she was out there, watching each car, hoping it was me. After I arrived, I kept getting pulled back and forth between her and my son and my ex, who needed my help in writing a presentation for a microbiology class. Not that I know much about microbiology, but I do know how to edit and write well.
And all through it, my daughter kept wanting me to focus on her.
I did get to go on a hike with her (by herself), and I stayed until she went to bed, and I kissed her goodnight with a promise that when I visit tomorrow I’ll give her my undivided attention. My ex and my son both agreed that was a good idea, so the day ended on a good note. Actually, it was a pretty good day overall, but just a bit lackluster in so far as any particular achievements.
So, as I said I’d talk about, regarding my spiritual nature … I’m a wolf in a human body.
Yeah. You heard me. If you’re shaking your head and saying I’m a total loon, I’m not surprised. To be honest, I wouldn’t believe it except for the fact that all the experiences related to it have happened to me.
Actually, I did think I was nuts for a long time (decades, in fact) until about five or so years ago, when I told somebody about my experiences, and they told me I was most likely a “therian.” When I asked in surprise for more details, they directed me to The Werelist, which is a very mature (and very sane) Website for adults to talk rationally about their therianthropic-related experiences. It was on that site that I realized I wasn’t alone, and that I wasn’t insane. People from all walks of life, scientists to retail workers, Christians to atheists to shamans, all have experienced it.
I talk about my own experiences on one of the pages of a Website I wrote several years ago. I’ll copy the pertinent sections to the bottom of today’s blog.
For now, though, here’s a nutshell definition …
Most people have heard of gender dysphoria. That’s where a person feels they’re a woman in a man’s body or a man in a woman’s body. Basically, a person feels as if their body’s self identity doesn’t match their body’s physical features.
Take the same concept and apply it to the idea of species.
Imagine feeling you’re a cat in a human body. Or a dog in a human body. Or some non-human animal in a human body. Imagine feeling as if you should have a tail, and your legs and body and skull should be shaped differently. Imagine feeling it so powerfully that your muscles try to compensate in painful ways.
Imagine your thought processes changing so that you don’t think like a human, and instead you start experiencing canine-related instincts. In some cases, you forget how to read, and instead see the letters as shapes of black and white. Or you might get where you can’t figure out how to turn a doorknob because you don’t remember how to use your thumb. Or you might find you can’t speak coherently, and you automatically growl at somebody who antagonizes you.
Those two experiences are among the cornerstones of therianthropy. They’re known as “shifts”, with the first one (the physical dysphoria) being called a “phantom shift” (in reference to people who feel “phantom” limbs after they’ve been amputated), and the second is called a “mental shift.”
I’ve experienced it all my life.
My parents had to install deadbolts on the doors at my family home because of it. I grew up on a ranch in Texas, and during the middle of the night when the coyotes and wolves would howl, as a young child I would often get out of bed and run outside to be in the yard and fields. I believe I was called to the wild canines, that I searched for them, that the howls spoke to me instinctually. I’ll never know because I don’t actually remember doing it, and I heard about my activities years later from my parents.
I very possibly might have been sleepwalking. I’ve exhibited wolf-related behavior while under sedation even as an adult.
About a year ago I had to undergo jaw surgery. The next day my surgeon told me that when the anesthetic was starting to wear off, and I was still basically unconscious and not in control of my actions, I started whimpering and growling at the orderlies around me. At one point, people from around the clinic came rushing to the hallway near where I was because they thought there was a dog or wolf in the building. It was me, howling loudly, my voice echoing through the rafters. I don’t remember any of it, but all of the clinic’s staff did, and they let me know about it. *smiles*
I grew up in a conservative Christian family, but I’ve always known without a doubt I’m an animal in a human body. I would experience those shifts and not understand them or know who to talk to about them.
It was only recently that I let my daughter know about my nature. I didn’t want to tell her about my therianthropy at first because I didn’t want her to pick up the idea from me. She experienced it on her own, however, and firmly believes she’s a cat in a human body … and she’s not shy about the fact at all. It’s causing her trouble in school, just like it did with me. My teachers would let my parents know of my fixation. My daughter’s principal has officially barred her from pretending to be a cat at school, particularly after she scratched somebody with her “claws.” She’s going through what I went through, and I realized recently, after talking about the situation with Master, that my daughter needs to know she can confide with me. She needs to know that she’s not alone.
I don’t want her to go through decades of thinking her experiences were crazy. My ex, however, does think they’re crazy, and as a result tries everything possible to get my daughter to focus on other things.
It’s why I believe my daughter has recently become so very attached to me. Because I take her seriously. And she knows it.
And it’s another reason she and I are so much looking forward to seeing each other again tomorrow. *grins*
Oh … the History Channel. Well, last year a representative of the History Channel asked around on the Werelist to see if anybody was interested in talking about their experiences for a television program about the history of werewolves. A few of us volunteered in different parts of the country. I met the film crew in downtown Denver, and we went to a park, and they interviewed me for hours in a very open and respectful way. A couple of months later they flew me to Washington, D.C., and interviewed me again. They were very scientific and curious, and I felt very good about the results.
Then the program got shown a few days before Halloween this year. The editors of it ignored all the questions they asked me. They ignored what they had asked other people. Instead, they grabbed a few seconds out of an interview with a therian on the board and took it totally out of context in such a way as to make the guy look pretty darn nuts. Everybody on the Werelist was disgusted. The good result, though, is now a lot of Therians are getting together to film their own documentary about the community, and they plan to broadcast it on YouTube. That should rock, and I wish them the best of luck!
Before I head out for the night, I want to mention again “The Marionette,” that free video game I noted at the very beginning of this post. The game tells a very haunting story about a ghost who wants revenge on an artist. Who the ghost is and why she’s doing it is told in a deeply captivating way that struck a deep chord in me. It spoke directly to things in my own life. I want to tell more, but it would spoil the nuances of the storyline, so I’ll just again encourage everybody to download it and play it for themselves. You should note, by the way, that there are four different possible endings, and which ending you get depends upon your actions during the game (particularly at the very end).
That game took up pretty much all of my free time during the last couple of evenings, but it was well worth it.
*smiles*
So, for now, and as always …
La kajira!!!
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Therianthropy, species dysphoria, and my life as a dog
I'm a wolf in a human body.
No joke. No roleplaying. It's real.
I'm a therianthrope -- one of many people around the world who believe they have the soul (or self identity) of a non-human animal species.
I've often felt that I'm not human, at least in a spiritual sense, ever since I was a young child. I've never really understood the nuances of human society, and I've always been pulled toward the wildness of nature, as if I have lived there, as if it should be my habitat instead of the structures of modern-day civilization.
I often experience what some have labeled "species dysphoria." As people with "gender dysporia" report feeling that their physical body does not match their mental gender, I feel my physical body does not match my mental species. If I had my choice, I would be what I feel I should be – a female wolf, living on the plains, chasing rodents for dinner and raising litters of puppies in a safely secluded den.
It’s with me all the time, from when I wake up until I sleep. Even then, I sometimes remember dreaming I am a wild canine, running free. It is definitely not a game, nor is it something I chose to be. I am a wolf because I am a wolf, and I have felt it in my soul for many years, even when it made no sense to me spiritually. It is not because I love wolves or think they’re cool or want an escape from my boring job or want to feel “different” other people. I am what I am because I am that way, and I’m that way all the time, whether I want to be or not.
I often do not understand (or, at least, agree with) the ways and morals of human society, and as a result I have very few friends with whom I feel I can share my inner thoughts. I see humans as simply another species – actually, a very destructive species that needs to be reigned in before it destroys more of the planet – and I do not see humanity itself as being any better or more valuable than most other animals on this planet. I find myself uninterested in most music and popular media, simply because I don’t understand the appeal. My free time is largely spent hiking in natural areas (as far from humans as possible), meditating or studying spirituality, and while I find myself feeling quite lonely at times, I don’t crave the company of most humans. Even my spouse (who is not a therianthrope) and I have problems because of my spiritual identity – not because of a problem with the idea, but because we don’t share my non-human impulses, and our outlook on the very nature of life and existence diverges substantially at times.
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FYI, "Mental shifting" is the common term used for the therianthropic experience of psychologically becoming one's inner animal. It is one of several types of "shifts" a therianthrope might experience. Other types include "phantom shifts" (in which one either mentally or physically feels a limb or body part that does not exist) and "dream shifts" (in which one becomes their inner animal while dreaming). It should be noted that not all therians experience every type of shift. It should also be noted that no therianthrope has ever "physically shifted" into their inner animal -- or if they have, they have not provided reliable proof to other therians or the world at large.
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Mental shifting into your inner animal
... A personal perspective
Although I haven't had two-day non-stop mental shifts (which at least one therian I know has experienced), I have had ones that have lasted for hours.
Several very intense hours.
Hours in which I wasn't human.
Oh, yeah, maybe physically, but not mentally. Every inch of my body that didn't correlate with a similar part on a feral canine (my inner animal a.k.a. " phenotype”) felt foreign and unnatural.
Imagine that your brain doesn't feel like it's wired for rational thought, and you find yourself living in the moment, constantly alert for movement, your thoughts arranged around your existence as it relates to you now, with the past and future being unreal (and unimportant) concepts.
Imagine that human speech becomes almost incomprehensible, like trying to make sense of a language you knew as a child, and it is almost painful to force your mind to attempt to understand it.
Imagine that every step you take feels awkward because you know you should be able to run better and faster on four feet, and you don't really understand why you can't.
Imagine finding your automatic desires and tastes conflicting with nagging thoughts telling you they don't fit with the needs (and limitations) of your human physical body.
Imagine not considering other humans as your same species any more than you consider a cockroach or a sparrow to be your same species.
You are a wolf -- or another animal -- during those times.
At least, that's what I experience.
In human terms, I become almost autistic. I wouldn’t say I become unemotional. But I would say that my emotions when I’m shifted toward my animal mindset are different than what I experience when I’m shifted toward my human mindset.
When I experience my heaviest shifts, my basic thought patterns are not the same as otherwise. I’m not just a human “feeling wolfy.”
And if I’m forced to come out of it quickly, it can be a very jarring and mentally unpleasant experience. And if I then have to rapidly call upon the overly rational parts of my human brain and associated memories, I feel as if I’m bending my head out of shape, and that it wants to go back to the other, more natural, way of thinking.
Probably the main reason I’ve never experienced multi-day shifts is because I have a spouse who is non-therian and I have two rambunctious kids, all of whom seem to do whatever they can to disengage my thoughts whenever they’re around me. But I still occasionally get the opportunity for solitude. And sometimes it results in those kinds of shifts. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to go camping by myself for several days in the wilderness, and I can fully experience a multi-day shift without interruption. That might be quite interesting.
Some may think that coming out of an intense shift might make me feel emotionally drained. But actually, it’s usually quite the opposite. I feel more alive and energetic than at most other times. But I also don’t feel very human. And, more importantly, I don’t think very human. At least, what passes for “normal human” in our culture.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Day 75 - On My First Full Day as Master's Slave, On Reflecting On Why Mistress and I Didn't Work Out, On the Possibility of Being Master's Slave Forever, On Getting Electrocuted for Fun with a Violet Wand, On Winning First Place at the Steampunk Party, On My Daughter Being a Cat in a Human Body, and On Reading a Fantastic Online Comic Called SPQR Blues and Becoming Queen Guinereve's Virtual Slave in SecondLife
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