Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

Lately I’ve been feeling, I dunno, some kinda way. Yeah, that’s real descriptive, I know. Kinda funny how many kinds of shorthand I have for saying ’I don’t know quite what’s wrong, but I know shit is not right’.

Some of them are from the hood. Some of them are from growing up poor. Some of them are from depression and ADHD. At least a few are from all the shit I read over the years.

None of them are really good for dealing with shit. Which kinda makes sense, because to deal with shit, whether it’s trauma, eustress, the after effects of either of those, or just some kind of genetically induced chemical imbalance, you need to understand what you’re dealing with. All that shit is some kind of problem, in the ’challenge beyond basic survival’ sense. You could also say they’re questions, in the whole Engineer sense of the word. Except rarely is the answer to the question ’what is a healthy way to resolve my trauma’, ’gun’. Even more rarely is the answer ’more gun’.

Funny, back in the day if I was in that situation where I felt some kinda way and had no idea why, I’d go play video games. Not that I think video games are in and of themselves a bad hobby or anything. I wasn’t violent because of violent video games, I was good at and therefore enjoyed violent video games because I was violent by nature. I kinda am, I think, what with my overall stress level being lower after spending an entire day exchanging knuckle sandwiches with Lemmy.

Thing is, while that might lower my overall stress level, I don’t think it actually heals most of my trauma. Oddly, the same might be said for resting in a pile of kids. But lowering those stress levels means it’s easier for me to look at what’s bothering me. To define the problem I’m trying to solve.

Kinda makes sense that most of the ways I learned to talk about my issues weren’t so much ways to define them in preparation for trying to deal with them, but ways to acknowledge them without looking too closely at them. Living on the raggedy edge, being part of an at risk group, or dealing with distress that will never fully go away, none of those are really conducive to a healing environment. Honestly, they’re all things that push me into survival mode, the same kind of mental place I’m in when I’m fighting. Of course, now that I think about it, my ’survival mode’ has a lot of screaming to let the pain out, then doing unto others before they can do unto me.

Yet another reason I gotta deal with my trauma before it can leak out onto my partners or kids.

Speaking of, after spending the latter half of yesterday under a pile of said kids, Isnomi murmured to me, ”Mama?”

”What’s up, Menace?”

”Can you hep wif thumb thing?”

She didn’t sound distressed, but there was a tentative hesitation in her voice that I don’t know if I’d ever heard before. ”I’m not sure. You know I want to help, but I’m not gonna say yes before I hear what it is you want.”

”Can you hep wif makin’ tweatth?”

I thought about the kinds of supplies we had at the Homestead, not to mention what I’d seen available in the Academy. ”Sure, I guess. Any particular reason?”

She looked a little shifty, then sighed. ”Fowah Tikibada’s Day.”

I froze. ”Uh, when is that exactly?”

”Fyeday.”

Funny, she pronounced it more like me than her mom. Guess here and now if the day names change, that’s on me. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. ”Okay. Wait, treats? What are you planning?”

”Twick owah tweat!”

I snickered a little. ”You realize that’s normally something where you go around to everybody’s house and ask them for treats, right?”

”Yeth.”

Then I realized something. ”Menace, where did you hear about trick or treating?”

Oh, she got very, very shifty eyed at that. ”Iunno.”

I sighed and snuggled her just a little. ”Isnomi, I’m not mad at you, and I’m not gonna be mad about you wanting to do trick or treating, but I do wanna know where you’re learning about stuff like that. If you picked it up from something innocent, that’s fine, but I’m your mama. I’m supposed to protect you from bad influences, especially ones you’re not experienced enough to recognize yet. Okay?”

She sighed. ”Ah-tay.”

”So, where did you find out about trick or treating?”

”You.”

That gave me all the pause. ”Uh, I told you about it? I don’t remember doing that.”

”I thniffed it lath yeah.”

”Uh...” That was not information I had any way to handle. ”You sniffed it?” She nodded, looking the oddest mix of guilty, sad, and trying very hard to look innocent. ”From me?” She nodded again. ”Okay, like, while I was impersonating scenery last year?”

”Yeth.”

”Have you done that before?” She nodded. ”For what?” She got a really, really squirrelly look at that. ”Isnomi Aetos-Diaz, I am not trying to catch you for some kind of gotcha. Did you break a rule?”

”No?”

”Okay then. If you’ve done something you shouldn’t, but there wasn’t a rule against it, we might have a talk about that. Like the making Clergy thing. Did I punish you for that?”

”No.”

”Did anyone else?” I got a little mad at the thought that somebody else might have levied consequences against my kid. Okay, somebody other than my partners. Or maybe one of the other adults living at the Homestead, although there those consequences better be minor and they ought to tell me about it poste haste. Or maybe Bonnie and Larry, or the Marshall, or the Temple Clergy. Oh, fuck, I guess there were a lot of nominal adults who I’d be okay with giving my girls feedback on how to be better people, but I’d definitely want to hear about any consequences pretty fuckin’ quick.

At any rate, while she looked a little intimidated, which was not normal for my little Menace, she shook her head, ”nah. Nahbady di dad.”

I nodded. ”Good. I’m not mad at you. Now. Enough distraction. What else did you learn from me while I was out on Halloween?”

She lowered her eyes, which meant she was gazing at both our navels, and said, ”Dult Wowds.”

It took me a second. ”Adult words?” She nodded. ”Well. I guess I feel a little better. I thought you’d picked them up listening to me.”

”Thumb.”

I snorted. ”Yeah, kinda figured. So, have you learned any adult words from anybody but me?” She looked shifty again. ”Menace, I’m not mad at you, but this is important. Who.”

”Mayth knowth awah dah ’dult wowds.”

I snorted. ”All of them, huh?” Then I thought about where she’d grown up, what with her dad being a mercenary soldier. ”Okay, yeah, she probably knows a lot of them. She’s never said any to me, though. Any reason for that?” Isnomi nodded. ”What reason would that be?”

”I tewwed awah thithtewth ’boud dad.”

”All your sisters know about all those rules we discussed with you?” She nodded. I hugged her to me. ”Such a big girl thing to do. Both to help your sisters learn all those rules, and to help them stay out of trouble.” She purred a little at the praise, and the rest of the kits picked that up. ”You know what? I’d be glad to help you make treats for trick or treating on Friday.”

So, after explaining Isnomi’s plan to the rest of my ladies, who all had suggestions and comments about ’guising’, that’s what I did all day today. I’d kind of half expected Marie to help me, but it turned out she was busy.

Somebody had to make the costumes, after all.