I am M, my pronouns are they/them. I'm one member of the system currently on here as @bright-system . I am a wolf holothere. Not sure how much more there is to say.
Going to be using this account to post about general plural shit, use it as a Twitter-replacement (I was looking at Mastodon but couldn't find an instance I vibe with). Probably the occasional essay or zine.
I will also occasionally be making/reblogging posts which are sexual in nature, so be warned. Probably won't be the main thing I post about but it will be on here.
I, as are the other people in our system, am emphatically supportive of all systems regardless of origin. If you don't like that, block us and move on.
(Bright is the name of the system, for any unaware.)
Unfortunately not a long or interesting story. Bright is part of a handle we've used on the Internet for a while now, so we decided to use it for our collective name as well.
We used to be called Alphabet Soup, back when there were only seven of us (now 16) and all of us went by some letter of the alphabet. Then things changed, there are more of us, most of us don't just go by a single letter, and one of the original seven fused, so Alphabet Soup made less and less sense, and we needed a new name.
I’ve got a question for everybody: What’s a game you play with your headmates? Are there any games you play with each other in-system? We’ve got a few that would love to play games with each other, either one-on-one or as an entire group. But unfortunately most of the games (video games/roleplay games/conversation games/etc) we can find are only doable with other people out of the system/irl and don’t work with folks you share a body/brain with. Like Truth or Dare wouldn’t work because the dares would be something we’d do with our body, which means all of us would collectively do the dare all at once, and truth wouldn’t work because our amnesia barriers are pretty mild, we already know what each other are like (for the most part) because we share a brain. But maybe Would You Rather might work.
One type of game we like to play is a storytelling/writing game, where we run a fictional tournament and write out what everyone would do in various scenarios of the tournament, like puzzles or challenges or “who would win in a duel.” Sometimes we write/draw/run PvP tournaments where the whole shtick is “if all our fictives got to duel each other to the death in a tournament, who would win what fight? who would come out on top as the victor?” And the game is imagining all the different scenarios together. We often like to use storytelling (making up what if scenarios, making up aus where everyone is placed in a fictional world, making up tournament scenarios, etc) as a means of play and bonding between members.
We've not played these as a system before (but have played with other friends), but the collaborative storytelling games Microscope and Fiasco would probably both work great. Microscope (by Ben Robbins, the guy who created the concept of 'West Marches'-style D&D) is a game where you create a fictional world and events and characters within it.
Fiasco is a game where you play characters in something akin to a heist movie, except the genre of the 'heist' varies wildly (we've run Fiasco games where we're all double-agent spies backstabbing each other, or news reporters sabotaging each other for a shot at The Big Scoop, or people at a secluded train station surviving a monster attack where somebody works with the monster in exchange for promises of their own survival). Fiasco is a clusterfuck of a game, in the best possible way.
Interest check for a community-made plurality zine
Hello all! We're looking to put together a zine made with contributions from Tumblr's plurality community. The idea is that each edition will focus on a general topic area, and people will contribute their own pieces that fit into that topic. Contributions can be whatever you can make - art, essays, poetry, humour, just some regular prose on the topic, whatever feels right to you.
If you're interested in contributing or just reading, we've created a form for you to fill out to let us know what it is you're interested in. Please give it a look, it should take you no more than about ten minutes, if that, to fill out.
We don't currently have an exact date lined up for the first edition as it will depend heavily on how much interest we get, but if everything goes well, we may be looking at releasing our first edition before the end of 2026.
Plural Catch-22: the path to happiness is lined with people who will call you fake for trying to walk it.
Fuck them. Walk it anyway.
Image ID in alt text and under the cut.
Image one:
Red, drawn repeatedly in boxes where she experiences intense suffering: "Why am I more palatable to the Average Joe if I paint myself crying and (censored) and suffering and dying a thousand times over than if I draw my system smiling?"
Part of the system is drawn smiling: Red, Hawthorne, and Gwen.
Image two:
"It's pathologization, of course."
A drawing of Red as the Vitruvian Man, wings and tail and broken halo extended, head duplicated. Figure one: the broken must suffer to be broken in a way that matters. Figure two: if you're not suffering, then I can ignore you. Figure three: if you're weird and happy, then you're a lying, cheating bitch who deserves to be hung in the public square.
"If you're not normal, then you're suffering."
"If you're not suffering, then you're normal. Get with the program and stop pretending you're strange."
Image three:
Red, sitting curled up and turned away, broken halo and a devil's tail. "I hate it. I hate that most of the Western, colonized world sees my existence as inherently awful. I hate that my existence is still something to cure. I hate that a system broadcasting their trauma is treated as more real than one broadcasting their joy."
See, what bothers me is the double standard of it all. We're sick if we're multiple and miserable. We're liars if we're multiple and happy. We were never multiple at all if we fuse, and people will take every chance they get to prove we were faking it in the first place. You're damned if you do, damned if you don't, and double-damned if you try something else.
What does anyone want from us? For us to shut up and disappear so you can call us fake again? For us to drag ourselves over hot coals until we're in enough pain to satisfy you? For us to wring out every drop of our trauma history for your entertainment, just so you can discard us the second you have a different opinion about anything at all?
The plural community's not exempt from this issue. You know which systems get reblogged the most? Which systems get their words taken as Expert Advice? Who gets heard, who gets thought of, who gets boosted? Have you ever noticed that some systems are palatable and others aren't, and that people regularly throw the unpalatable systems in harm's way to justify their own reality as "one of the good ones?"
Do you really think Western medicine thinks any of us are "the good ones?" There are no good madmen, only quiet ones.
#yyyup! #OP let me know if i'm diverging from the original intended meaning of your post too much here #but i feel like this phenomenon intersects with our transfemininity #in the sense that “transfem” one of the less acceptable types of system to be on sysblr. #we operate under the assumption that our blog is temporary and conditional. #it feels like it's pretty much inevitable that one day we'll say the wrong thing and everyone will dogpile us for it. #like for example: maybe we talk in-depth about ageplay and get pedojacketed as a result. #all of a sudden we've lost the public's favor! we were a bad apple all along! ohhh i always knew something was up with her! #that's not a type of system we respect! she doesn't get to represent systemhood! we're good systems unlike her. #anyway#let's all push forward together and back each other up when we get hate for it alright?
You're spot on. Trans and queer systems (doubly so for transfem systems, especially here on Tumblr Dot Staff-Misogyny), disabled systems who can't be "aesthetic" about their disabilities, Black and Indigenous systems who dare to be themselves online, systems with littles who don't want to live in the sexless safe box or adults who can't handle it all, systems struggling with "inconvenient" symptoms and comorbidities, systems who show the "wrong" kinds of suffering, systems with hostile members or infighting that affects outside people, systems who've been fused or want fusion, systems who don't want fusion, median systems, polyfragmented systems, tiny systems, systems that don't fit the American medical model of "DID or bust (with a totally dysfunctional, miserable, fusion-craving system of 5-15 people that has maybe one fictional introject at most)", systems that don't fit the current community notion of what's normal or common...
Plenty of people don't fit the palatable system mold, especially if they're dealing with other systemic bullshit like racism and transmisogyny and ableism, and too many systems get harassed off the internet or lolcowed for it. Doubly so if we find ways to be happy with ourselves. And it's absolute bullshit.
The only palatable system is a white, abled, patriarchy-friendly-while-arguably-being-against-systemic-discrimination system that never fucks up in any meaningful way, never contradicts itself or disagrees, is distinct enough to be neatly stereotyped and categorized (unless it's more convenient to other people if they can treat you like you're not plural at all, in which case it doesn't matter), never does anything challenging or weird or inconvenient unless other people benefit from it, never takes up space or celebrates their existence because they're only ever miserable in the ways other people enjoy watching, only ever parades their trauma for the public's entertainment without presenting anything based in systemic problems, and disappears the moment their suffering isn't inspirational or scientifically interesting.
Made a mistake, said the wrong thing, hurt someone, displeased a stranger? Too bad, palatable systems don't do that, and no one ever learns from mistakes. Get banned. Get harassed. Get fakeclaimed. I see it every day. I see it every week. Someone is always the butt of the joke, even in the inclusive community. Someone is always the scapegoat. Someone gets posted on a website and doxxed for the crime of existing inconveniently for the status quo.
It's bullshit.
None of us are "the good ones" to other people. None of us are as palatable as anyone wants to think we are. Bob on the street still sees us all as serial killers, permanent victims, liars, freaks, nutjobs, all of the above. Sally at the store thinks we're a conspiracy theory. Psychology professors still sometimes teach that the existence of any sort of plurality is a hoax (ask how I know). The spaces that are supposed to accept us still regularly tell us to shut up and go to therapy, always assuming that therapy matches our values and goals, that therapy is available at all. (And fuck you if you have trauma from psychiatry, apparently.)
I want a world where we stop beating the shit out of each other and ourselves trying to fit a mold that doesn't exist. I want to see the plural community start working together for once in our fucking lives instead of infighting over shit that Bob and Sally don't care about for the next twenty years.
So damn it, I've got your back. Let me know if you ever want to chat, or if you want backup contact info somewhere less likely to ban someone for being a trans woman in public.
Hey all. I know you've said in the past that you're all kind of in a state of flux, each of you changing over the years but in ways that aren't just "growing as a person" but literally becoming other people. Not exactly fusion but something else. (Or at least that's how we've interpreted it? Correct me if I'm wrong.) We reckon we're in a similar boat, and it's kind of scary to us. It's happened a couple times already and we've got very mixed feelings about it. There's a part of us that approaches that with a kind of "c'est la vie" mindset and to just roll with the waves, but there's a very real fear of a loss of identity, of individuality.
My question is, how do you guys deal with that? Is it something that gives you any anxieties or is it just how it is for you? Sorry if I'm not being totally clear.
- @myriadmanes
You interpreted it about right. Sometimes our brain yanks someone backwards, dunks them into our subconscious or unconscious mind for a few days or weeks while they do whatever they need to do to change/be remade, and eventually spits out someone that holds different priorities and traits but also has a sense of not truly being new. It usually happens when we're under unbearable stress or get stuck on our own identities ("I can't change without becoming someone else!" dilemmas- best solved by becoming someone else).
I can speculate about how it works all I want or gesture at the entities hanging out back there who handle the recycling process (one of these days, maybe they'll explain a few things to us), but the mechanics don't actually matter that much. What matters is that we get remade sometimes, and that our definition of "person" gets a little weird as a result. We tend to reach for "recycling" as shorthand to try to explain this, or point at our personal mythos to describe it in metaphor. (This one is especially relevant.) But it doesn't particularly matter what exactly we call it if we can talk about it.
On accepting it:
Yes, we do have fears and anxieties about being remade sometimes. We get attached to ourselves, we want to keep ourselves the same, we want to feel like we know something about who we are, we envy the casual nature of other people's identity persistence. Sometimes we choose to fight it and hold still a little while longer.
Slowly, it's gotten easier to let go and trust that we'll be okay on the other side of it. More cycles passing makes the process more mundane to us. It's neither good nor bad, just a thing that happens sometimes.
We do have the comfort of there being a little continuity to the discontinuity of it all. When we're recycled, the person that emerges has access to old memories and information. They're not starting from a total blank slate. Their sense of identity is often significantly different from who they used to be, but there's the sense of a shared thread of self. We can reconnect with the thread of who we used to be if we put in a little effort, and it tends to be helpful in tying up loose ends. I am bound to who I used to be by memory and feelings, in the end, even if I was someone else when those memories were made.
Approaching the whole cycle from the lens of a sort of quasi-ancestor worship practice has helped find some comfort in it. We choose to honor who we used to be and what they gave to create us as we are, and it's a comfort to know that someday, someone else will remember us too. It creates more continuity in the chaos. (And the result is a life where we're kinder to ourselves regardless.)
Being fully fused for two years also helped a lot. It's certainly one way to get over the "a change has occurred and I am not the same person I was" fear- all or almost all of us know what it feels like to let go of a concrete identity and still exist. There's a lesson you learn of "I do not have to be the same Person to exist- I am here regardless of what face I wear, what you call me, what I think or want or fear. I am the only thing that I cannot lose."
That, and having a few possession experiences helps more than you'd think. What is the self if others can move in and out of it? Does it really matter who you are exactly if you're here? (Sometimes it does matter. Sometimes it doesn't.)
I think the biggest help, though: the idea that suffering comes from fighting, avoiding, straining to grasp/cling to, or resisting something. Change is painful if we refuse to let it happen (or chase after changes before their time). When we relax into the fear and allow ourselves to become someone new, it's not scary. It's often a relief. Allowing is a skill, and it's an incredibly useful one in a lot of ways.
There are a few comics and writing pieces that helped us with this too. I'm going to recommend most of the ones I can remember.
Annotated reading list:
This comic shaped how we handle change and self-replacement in a lot of ways (including the above self-ancestor worship angle). Content warning for suicide, death, "what makes a continuous person?" questioning, and similar. It's heavy and existentially challenging to think through, but it's useful. (We'd recommend journaling on your feelings about it if you can. Debating and discussing with ourselves about this comic opened a lot of doors.)
Partial screenshots of the most important bits (the full comic is longer):
In short: it helped us see and accept the idea that our past, present, and future selves are different people regardless of whether we change our identities, opinions, experiences, etc. We are plural in serial, not just parallel. What's one more change when me-yesterday is already someone different from me-today? Why fear change when it's already happened a million times over?
For a much shorter comic on the same ideas, see also:
Outside of comics, Opening the Door is a piece that helped us. If you can read through the metaphors/mad rambling/lightly plagarized nature of it and slowly deconstruct the thing into its lessons (or dig through its creator's website to learn the references- a starting point for you that has topical relevance), then there are a lot of useful ideas in here. It's just a challenging read the first few times (and a rare case of "this is easier to understand the more insane you are"). Take notes and reflect in the margins or a notebook as you go. It helps.
Don't worry too much about Round 10. It's confused just about everyone we know, us included. There's something there, but you can get the idea from the rest of the text without understanding what the hell Round 10 is on about.
The essential things we learned from it that are relevant here:
Your self isn't the same thing as your identity, and it's also not the same thing as (your soul, the higher self, wise mind, the continuous thread of youness if you believe that exists). The identity can change or die without killing the self or soul. Oftentimes, it has to die to escape its own self-destruction. Being remade is a rare chance to start again in a better position than where you were stuck before.
Tools are most useful when you don't let them control you. If you have a hammer, then learn when you need to go find a screwdriver instead of bashing screws into the wall because you use the hammer for everything.
Identity is a tool. If it doesn't work, try something else. If it's time to let it go, then let it go.
Using a screwdriver to bash nails into the wall because you want to avoid using a hammer for everything isn't much better than using the hammer for everything. Rejection is a different kind of clinging.
Some concepts can't be understood without changing the frame you're looking at them from. Get a different viewpoint, and you might find a more useful understanding.
Footnotes:
1: I could write a whole other post on the change we experienced in 2019-2020. We went from "80-90 person gateway-adjacent system with frequent newcomers and a nagging sense of something wrong with the headcount" to "fairly small system with no true newcomers and a much more solid sense of what's real inside", but the short explanation is "we had to grapple very intensely with what it means to be a person and ask which of us were real because of a persistent feeling that most of us were neither solid/stable nor lasting people, and after making it through that crucible, we have a very high split tolerance and have yet to truly split someone new with their own thread of self-awareness". That process was also how we learned that we remake ourselves in the first place / that the Sea exists as an entity we have to work with.
Hey, if you’re disabled (of any kind), Mad/Insane, or “undiagnosed but there’s definitely something happening”, please come read this.
Especially if you’re a disabled transfemme. I know that as of writing, we’ve had a shitty couple days.
And if y’all can share it otherwise, whether that’s reblogging this or sending the link to the disabled/mad/whatever we are people in your life, I’d really appreciate it.
I saw a poster nailed into a telephone pole yesterday. “Have you lost all sense of purpose?” bold text at the top read. “Has your reason for existing long since been made irrelevant? Are you a ghost haunting those around you before the time of your death?”
“So are we. Join the Empty Souls Club.”
At the bottom were slips with contact info to be torn off. All but one of the slips were taken. I tore off the last.
The address on the slip led me down back alleys leading into a long-abandoned industrial estate. A rickety wooden door with rust-smothered hinges bore that name again, the Empty Souls Club.
“Leave your self at the door,” a plaque read.
Through the door was a spiral staircase going down, down, down. As I walked down, I asked myself, what am I trying to gain from this? Hope, I eventually answered. Bodies don't have hope, but people do. Hope will prove I'm not dead just yet.
After years of going down, I reached the bottom. The air was an icy chill. A door, just a bit too small, loomed at the end of a long hallway. I hunched down and walked through, the sharp metal of the jagged doorframe scratching at my fur.
A circle of chairs sat in the middle of a vast and otherwise empty room, bare of wallpaper or carpet, just brick walls and concrete floors. The chairs were all empty, but one bore my name, engraved on the back.
My tall frame squeezed onto the small frame, dwarfing it. I looked around the room. Nobody else was there. It didn't look like anybody had been for some time.
“What do you do when you're lost?” I eventually asked nobody in particular. “What do you do when you were made with a purpose in mind, and now you've completed it? What then?”
The room was silent. Not even my own voice carried far enough to throw back an echo.
“What do you do when there's nothing left to do?” I asked again. Silence.
“Nothing's enough,” I continued. “I've tried to find something to fill the void, but nothing’s enough.”
My claws scratched into the hard floor, raking scars down it as I blunted myself into it. My fists clenched hard enough for my claws to draw blood from my palms. I had wanted to scream, but something had stopped me. I had wanted to scream until my throat bled, but I didn't.
“What's left for me?” I howled into the room.
The door creaked open. Nobody had opened it. Nothing was there, and yet the room found a way to tell me that my time here was over.
This was pointless, I thought.
I skulked back up the stairs, something new filling me.
It's funny how being depressed makes you miss misery, but in that moment, reunited with this overwhelming sense of desperation, of loss, I had been reminded I was, in fact, alive. Bodies don't long for something more, but people do.
I still have no answers. I don't have direction or purpose. But I do have hope.
there’s a local guy called the Sidewalk Astronomer who sets up outside the clubs downtown with a giant telescope and lets the drunk people walking by look at the stars. he’s my hero and he let me see the moon and Jupiter today
Sorry for not adding image descriptions before, I realized only a bit ago that I can save the images in drafts and add it before posting >_> I'm going to go back and add to the currently non-described ones later.
We’ve fallen into a pattern of splitting a new headmate roughly once every two weeks (currently, at least). Every time a new headmate appears, this tends to bring its own challenges, most notably that we already have such a limited amount of time to devote to each of our individual needs, and more people entering the equation only stretches that further. We also have noticed, as has our therapist, that each new headmate brings along something unique, something inherent to them that was previously absent from our system. Some notable recent examples:
I appeared as a fusion of two other headmates and also brought along another headmate who only I can hear, our first subsystem
At around the time I appeared, a third headmate went dormant
Before me, our first fictive appeared, with her own struggles with being “out of place” (which would later lead to the formation of a second fictive from the same source)
This last week, a new headmate has appeared who is entirely non-verbal, even to the point of not being able to communicate verbally in headspace, which has led to us learning British Sign Language (BSL) so that we can communicate
We saw our therapist today and told her about our most recent new addition, and that we’ve been learning BSL. She said something which stuck with me: “There’s always something new going on with you, isn’t there? Somebody new always brings along a new challenge. It’s fascinating.”
To which I responded: “We’ve gotten used to it. You know, it’s strange, it’s interesting, but it’s happening, and I guess that’s the important thing.”
We both agreed that that sentiment - “it’s strange, but it’s happening” - feels like a very neat summary of our experiences with plurality. Our brain throws us a new curveball every so often, but we always find a way to work with it. We agreed that, if anything, that’s a testament to how much our mental health has improved, that even though things are often difficult, we’re always able to push through them and figure them out.
It’s a point I wanted to make here as well. A lot of digital ink has been spilled on this site on how plurality can be challenging. I want to make it clear I am not dismissing that - plurality can certainly be very difficult, we know that as well as anybody - but rather, I want systems to, if they have the opportunity, try to find something positive out of it. For us, we are each other’s support network. We always have each other’s backs. It is also, undeniably, fascinating, as our therapist put it. That our brain works in the way it does is something which we cannot help but marvel at. For us, that’s enough. Could it be for you? Even if it’s only a small thing that helps you to keep moving forwards?
