The Roar of a Dragon

I can feel the roaring beginning deep within my soul. For a time, I considered myself Otherkin, I don’t really anymore. I hope you don’t know what that is, because it’ll be harder to erase what you’ve already learned.

Otherkin is a name for the feeling that some part of yourself (spirit, mind, soul, whatever) is not human. To some people, that may sound crazy, but to others it may not. I don’t really want to waste this blog explaining it, I will explain how *I* feel, and why, and hopefully people will understand.

 

People have judged me for as long as I can remember for not being “Social” enough. I was that child who was always reading books. Devouring intelligence. I’ve felt a deep connection with dragons that I can’t explain my entire life, and for a long time I thought I was one. In my deepest, darkest moments, I thought I would become one magically. Thankfully, I snapped out of the crazy.

Lately, however, I’ve begun to have to review those beliefs a bit, not necessarily because I think I am a dragon right now, I’m not, I’m trapped in this mortal shell 😉 but… I feel it. I do.

I feel wings sometimes, or scales, or I will whip my head around in a particular mood and feel like a dragon peering at someone. It’s awkward and thankfully doesn’t happen in public.  When I was young, I would see them flying in the sky, as invisible shapes in the sky. I didn’t know how to put it better than that.

Now, I think I may.  I am a writer. That is what I am, who I am, what I do.  That is my soul. My soul’s duty, it feels like, is to share these stories of mine, wound up inside my head. The tales of the Drae’kyn’adra, tales of the Dragons, the Treikin, anything that comes to my head. I’ve accepted that I will never ultimately know if any of this exists, but I choose to take the quantum physics realization that perhaps, just because they exist in my mind, they exist.

So, their story is worth being told accurately, and adequately.  It’s a really rough job, sometimes I wish I could just draw it, but I may have to begin doing that too, because I’m not sure other artists could do it justice. Somehow I think a few could, though.

People have never understood me, and I’ve been judged all my life. As a kid, I got picked on for my glasses and my jaw. I think I’ve said this before, but my lower jaw is larger than my upper one, because the upper jaw never grew out fully. My cheekbones are also wafer-thin, so you can’t really see them, my face looks kind of flat.

My earliest memory is of being picked on. I’m glad I have this gift, because it helps my life make sense. My creativity is so powerful that it has shielded and guided me through the most unimaginable events and situations. Through living with someone who was suicidal and violent, it helped me get through homelessness and rape, through childbirth and fights and people, so many people…

People exhaust me. They always have. I’m not 100% sure why, but I have some ideas, like the fact that most of my early childhood I was not treated very well, and for the rest I wasn’t either. Books never hurt me. So, I read. For twenty years, or so.  My first word was book.

I grew up in a small town in New York, but even that had too many people for me, I’ve always, always wanted to own a house in the forest somewhere, and live by a clearing so I could grow my own food. I’ve always wanted to live AWAY from people. The fact that I get judged for that strikes me as very unfair. It’s not my fault, it’s who I am. It really upsets me when people get upset with me for being more comfortable on the computer than dealing with people, because that’s how I am.

The internet saved me. The magical ability to get online and talk to people thousands of miles away, to realize that I was not alone, that there were other people out there like me, who cared about me, it saved me from suicide. That and my books, I have never had a thought of harming myself. I count myself very, very lucky in that.

My best friend died because this world was too cruel for her. She was not strong enough. She tried, she was very strong, but she was in an impossible situation, and she felt that she couldn’t leave.

I’m hearing the roaring of my dragon side, I need a break. A break from this city, a break from people.. I need to go for a walk in the woods and for a few minutes forget that people exist.  I can’t write here.  Too much angst has happened here, too much fighting. There are always people outside. I can’t get away from them, and I keep backing further and further into my corner because I can’t deal with it all.

I don’t know what I am supposed to do.

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~ by araelysia on January 13, 2013.

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