123 - A God, Timely

Lin

I've realised something huge about how I relate to time.

It seems that I have equated taking time for basic self care and taking care of my own needs with ridicule, reprimands and punishment.

Yet another thing that explains the way I interact with shared spaces, and certain people.

Taking care of my own needs has almost always been followed with some sort of guilt tripping or ridicule by someone else.

And because of that, I've internalised this idea of my existence as being a burden upon all I encounter, including myself. 

Not to mention all of this being tied to my PDD diagnosis, which has also made seeking help far more difficult.

I'm mulling some of this over, and the session I had with my mental health practitioner yesterday, and I figure that yet again, I'm right.

The whole situation was deeper than CBT would ever actually go, and would therefore be nothing but a wet cloth on a stab wound.

Literally all of this, along with the voldys' manipulation surrounding it all coming from my PDD, was a way of trying to keep me trapped with them forever.

For me, it has always been iterated that I would struggle, that I would flounder, without their support and guidance.

I can wholeheartedly say that they're wrong.

My struggles, my difficulties in life, have almost all been caused or exacerbated by their interference.

I think I need to talk about this with my Da.

Good idea.

Speak of the man. My Da crosses into the room, and seats himself next to me.

What was it about time that meant they always had to reprimand me about it?

I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, given my role on the Sim, but I need it confirmed by someone I trust.

You likely already know, Lin, but I'll tell you anyway. 

They didn't want you realising that you were a Time God, and that you could therefore affect the flow of time, and events within it. If your time was under their control, they could influence everything that happened on Sim.

Now that you're no longer in their clutches, they don't hold any power over that.

So they weren't just micromanaging me. They were micromanaging the whole course of fate with me being navigator. And I had no idea up until recently.

What about all the other things, like the harsh criticism, the blaming me for higher bills, the sleeping, and all the kids at school hating the amount of help I was getting? 

He sighs, and I can sense him mourning.

That was abuse through and through in order to persuade you not to return to us. A lot of the micromanagement of basic things, like your basic needs, was their way of controlling how effective your powers were. 

Blaming you for money problems was likely also to make you feel less inclined to have a profound impact on society by having you shrink yourself, which was one of bin boy's aims as well. That would make your influence less powerful, as you'd be less inclined to invest in the economy, and therefore into the departments you're a part of, and the Sim in and of itself.

As for the kids at school, some of that was set up to isolate you by other cult families. There's a tendency in a lot of cult schools to make a point of fostering unhealthy competition between neurotypical and neurodivergent students, or between neurodivergent students who do get support and neurodivergent students who do not. None of that was your fault - it's the fault of the system for failing you.

We should have been there, and we couldn't be.

His eyes are glistening. I reach out for a hug, and silently, he accepts.

That wasn't your fault either, Da.

I know, Tavi. Sometimes, it feels like it is.

I shake my head.

They kidnapped me. You could deliberate about what you could've, should've or would've done had anyone been able to save me until the cows come home, but that course of events happened, and so you now have a version of me who experienced all of the nonsense that went with it. 

I suppose the questions now are: what are the roots of my problems? And what can we do about them so that they can heal, and I can do my job, for everyone's sake?

Perhaps you'll need to look at some things too, for yourself, but that can be said of everyone. And I'm here now, so we can go over some stuff that we didn't get the chance to when I was a kid. It was never your fault. They took advantage of my vulnerability, and you and Maman's youth and kindness, to try to manipulate you both over some petty bullshit. You did your best, and that was all you could do.

He nods, and I sense him rubbing my back. I feel dripping on the back of my jumper, and I know what that means, so I reach for the box of tissues.

Trugarez, Barley.

I can't help but smile.

I missed you calling me that.

He chuckles.

You aren't going to correct me on calling you that because of the shade of blond your hair is?

Nah. Not the time nor place for it.

We release each other from the embrace, and he politely blows his nose.

In the physical, I will find you. Or you'll find me. 

Perhaps we'll bump into each other.

Whatever you want.

He tosses his used tissues into the square bin in the corner of the room we're in, then eases back into the sofa.

You sure?

He nods.

I'm sure, darling.

I smile.

Well then, I look forward to us meeting again very soon. 

For now, do you want to watch a movie?

Meet The Robinsons?

Yeah, that sounds good.