People say start at the beginning. What happens when you don’t know where the beginning is?

I knew I was different when I was in single digits. Knew I was nonhuman when I was in my teens. Knew I was fictionkin by the time I was 20.

First saw Vriska when I was 25.

My immediate reaction was ‘wow, she’s me.’ It made me uncomfortable. I tried to ignore that. I told someone close to me “if I had discovered fictionkin now, I’d probably be saying I was vriska’.

When I told her, this week, that I was Vriska, she reminded me of that incident.

I probably should have accepted it earlier.

I used to think I was a vampire– a avoided the sunlight. Being out in it always feels wrong.

I used to think I was a demon– I put a high value on adversarial interactions with people.

I waded into the early days of homestuck troll rp because I wanted to be kismesis with someone. I loved relationships like that all my life. No one ever had a word for it before. I wanted it. Wanted it badly.

Always wanted to be a pirate too. Looked up to captain hook since I was 6. I was angry when Pirates of the Carribean got popular, because I felt like everyone would like pirates, but I LIKED THEM FIRST!! (Yeah I was a snot nosed teen.)

I wore black lipstick when I was in highschool, but what I really wanted to get ahold of was blue lipstick. I made it myself a few times. I thought it looked good.

The self-obsession, and bossiness is something I’ve had a problem with all of my life. Getting better as I get older, I guess.

I probably just should have accepted the whole thing earlier.

But I didn’t. Not until it kept me awake at night. Not until I was flatly nonfunctional because of a damned comic update.

I thought about it, time and again, over the last 5 years. Am I? Is it? It can’t be. 

But it is.