Talyessin Misora [F]

Talyessin Misora

I used to trust the media to tell me the truth

For that twelve-and-a-half hour labour, she felt the blood of his pulse, felt her blood beat in a rhythm that reached into the baby as he slipped into her hands, but staring into those dark, miscoloured, mauve eyes, much contrasting to the blues and hazels  and greens and browns of average orbs, she couldn't help but feel as if it didn't belong in this world. That it shouldn't exist at all. She was toying with genetics that shouldn't be tampered with. It was an experiment - it was an abomination.

Abuse manipulates and twists a child’s natural sense of trust and love. Innocent feelings are belittled or mocked and the child learns to ignore their feelings. They can’t afford to feel the full range of emotions in their body while they're being abused - pain, outrage, hate, vengeance, confusion. So they short-circuit them and go numb. For many children, any expression of feelings, even a single tear, is cause for more severe abuse. Again, the only recourse is to shut down. Feelings go underground. Such was the case for severely abused Talyessin, and the initial cause of dissociation; hit, kicked, slapped, beat, strangled, anything that could be imagined. This was not just by one person, but by multiple - most members of the family. Whilst his mother paid next to no attention to him aside from to physically and mentally abuse the child, a fatherly figure was never actively involved in the picture, leaving him to fend for himself. He did see his biological father a few times, however, none of these experiences were particularly positive. There were a lot of mental problems that ran in the family, especially on his demonic father's side; if the knowledge of what his father was wasn't enough to drive his mother away, the mental issues were. Even so young, Talyessin often acted angry and violent in response to his mother's abuse. He took frustration out in an unacceptable manner, like banging his head against the wall, threatening people, unable to find a better outlet. Just at the age of three, he threatened to kill his mother will a screwdriver for the things she was doing to him, which of course, only lead for the abuse to amplify - beneath the façade of violence, his mother was terrified and genuinely thought he'd go through with it while she was asleep. He never did, though that was something he would regret for years to come.

When the boy was just over three years old, his sister was born. He had wanted to be the only child, and get the attention he deserved, but now with his sister any form of available affection was cut off and misplaced into her instead. He hated her, if only for being born, and while he would never lay a finger on her he was often blamed for any injuries she acquired, be it a bump or scratch, leading to more verbal and physical abuse from his mother as punishment for the false event. While he wasn't being forced to watch his sister, Talyessin was constantly signed up for things by his grandparents that he didn't want to do - music, swimming, things of the like - and he hated it. If he had to learn an instrument, he'd hide or break it. If he had to swim, he'd pretend to fear the water. He hated being around other children, other people, and just wanted to be left alone in his room. He thought about death a lot, though it never frightened him; he thought about the may ways he could cease to be and it fascinated him. The child had a wooden bunk bed in his room, despite being the only one that slept in the petite room, and often kicked and pushed as hard as he could with his legs against the wood in attempt to get the top bunk to fall down on top of him, in hopes it would kill him. He once split his arm open with a table knife (he still bears the scar to prove it today) in the hopes he'd bleed out. Needless to say, none of these attempts succeeded.

His first delusion was that a girl lived nextdoor; an imaginary friend. He believed wholeheartedly in her existence, despite nobody else having seen her. She apparently monitored everything he did in his room. He never talked to her, nor did she ever talk to him, but he knew she was there, always watching him. He felt as if he was being watched by a lot of things, for some reason especially in space, but he was not scared or paranoid of it. As far as school went, he never honestly chose to talk to anyone, and acted rather reclusive. As a result of this, he rarely made friends, but there were a few people he did come to enjoy the company of. However, he happened to process words very differently to other children, applying them rather oddly, causing him to dub things of his own accord, causing him to say things such as 'hoofbeast' and 'swaychair', and was no doubt mocked for that relentlessly (he was never taught that saying such was wrong, or the actual names of some creatures/objects, so never understood why they laughed at him for it).

His thought process became oddly distorted at that time. He heard voices, their words influencing impulses; the voice's jumbled laments resulted in rising paranoia of people, believing that everybody was watching him, that they could read his mind - he conjectured that every thought he had could be broadcasted for the world to hear. On top of that, he lost interest in human interaction, merely wanting to be alone, and he was for the most part. He remained in his room, avoided his family (all aside from his sister, who he was growing an increasing soft spot for - he did his best to keep an eye on her and fill gaps in the care his mother gave her, and they began to grow close from there on out), stopped talking to most. Whenever he visited his grandparents he'd sit behind something or in the corner so they couldn't see him; put something in the way so that they couldn't look at him, believing that they'd look at him and see all the mental and emotional trauma - that his mother would punish him for allowing another soul to know about it. Those thoughts started to increase in severity, eventually reaching the point of which he taped black construction paper on his window to stop people looking in, including the imaginary girl he'd also become partially anxious of (quickly forgetting about her after that). He was terrified every second he had to leave his room because he thought somebody would break in, only to discover the abuse behind the façade. He had to lock his door, and put a piece of paper under it to see if anybody broke in, although he also believed that people knew the miniature trap, and put it back the way he had it after they'd broke in.

During middle school, grades six to eight quickly became the worst years endured; he never fit in to any social group, promptly becoming one of the outcasts people dubbed quirky and creepy. He wasn't really able to make friends - it had become a total inability to communicate effectively with others. He couldn't relate and didn't know how to associate with them. The people he thought he could trust in school turned against him, and would do and say things to get him down. The bullying was both verbal and physical. He was slammed around, hit, cornered and beat. On several occasions, he was choked against the lockers to a point of unconsciousness.

Through the combination of abuse from differentiating angles, he became increasingly angered by everybody. He hated them all for what they'd done to him; he desired to kill himself, if only to get away from it all. Each and every day, he fantasized about murdering every last one of those people;  thought about what he'd do to end all their lives. It wasn't just a fantasy though - he planned the death of those souls, and was going to do it one day. It got to the point of which he obsessed over such plans, talking in some oddened code to a friend over the phone, who had it on speaker so their mother could hear. He knew that, but continued his eldritch talk, contemplating the idea and his plans. That person's mother spoke to his about it - violent abuse was given in punishment, nailing it into his head how he was useless, and petrifyingly odd, and how she was ashamed that he was her son. She went into his room and searched all his belongings to see if she could find anything relating to it the next morning - yet another conformation that he shouldn't trust.

He hated his school and the people within it; he refused to go to the graduation because that distaste ran so deeply. The class was small, roughly fifteen kids, thus it'd be difficult for them not to notice his absence, but he didn't care. The entirety of his family seemed upset with his choice - his mother obviously searched for him, to force him to go. He was dragged out of the house, but still refused; he fought as hard as he could, gripping the handrailing outside as if his life depended on it. Without even a tinge of empathy for her child, his mother swiftly became enraged by his behaviour, and, allowing him to fight his way back to the house, grabbed his wrist, snapping it around the doorframe. Quite a vast majority of neighbours witnessed that and reported it, eventually leading to his relocation to his grandparents after being taken from his mother, allowing him a comforting environment in which his arm could heal properly without any additional abuse.

Before entering high school, he bore every intention of killing himself, and half of the other students. Surprisingly though, it wasn't as bad as middle school. It was a vocational school, and he ended up getting into technical drafting. It hadn't been his first choice, but it was quite fun. They pretty much did architectural drafts of houses and used AutoCAD software. They had this 3D printer that could print actual models of things created in the software - he was the only one who knew how to work it for quite some time. Although he did possess a petite group of friends, he never really fit in with them. He still felt like an outcast, unable to relate to anyone. He was still mocked for the littlest things. He practically wore the same set of clothes - had an all grey, black and purple outfit. People would make fun of him for that, saying that he was poor and couldn't afford any additional clothes, making fun of practically anything else they could. Additionally, he stopped eating at school. He didn't want people to even see him eat. People made fun of him for that too, call him anorexic. He was thin, rather lanky, though it wasn't anything like that, he just didn't want people looking at him, watching him eat food - odd, of course, but what could be considered odd compared to his twisted thoughts at the time?

When they had the occasional class parties, he'd eat a little. After building up a reputation of not eating for so long, people certainly found it odd, but surprisingly said nothing regarding it. People thought he did drugs for how his eyes were; they erratically moved, were dilated more often than not, and of course bore their strange colouration. One of his friends kept trying to hook him up with girls, which made it even more awkward to talk to them; they weren't interested, and neither was he. He'd never been in a relationship, nor did he want one. That same individual would always unplug his computer as well. Load, unplug. Working on a project, unplug. This person would spit on the mouse and keyboard so he couldn't use it. He would get pissed off, and this 'friend' wanted to see him angry. The individual constantly took photographs of him, several of which were printed out, or used in demeaning fashions. It got to the point that whenever he saw his 'friend' with this camera, he would grab it out of his hands and throw it across the room, which of course resulted in beratings from teachers and his grandparents alike (that was a trigger for him, and still is today; when people unexpectedly take photographs of him, he wants to break their device - he'd deleted somebody's entire collection of photographs just because they had one of him before).

He was the person that so many thought would bring a gun to school and kill everyone. As they abused him, they'd make ridiculous, badly structured remarks in their mock-panic tone like 'I didn't do it as bad as he did, so you should kill him first when you shoot the school'. That wasn't the sort of thing anybody should joke about. He kept replying that he would never hurt anyone, that he would never do that sort of thing, but they kept pushing, shoving, refusing to bend to his will. Another side of him had awoken; a side that not only hated himself, but everyone around him. He did want to kill them all, just like the feeling he had in middle school. But this time, it was worse, more overpowering, more soul-consuming until it devoured him. It didn't feel like it was actually him breaking that kid's nose. It didn't feel like it was him who had his hands round another's throat. It didn't feel like him biting down onto the exposed flesh of a shoulder that came into view. His perspective only returned to focus with two unconscious, one cowering against the lockers, and a vast crowd of onlookers staring in frozen terror.

He wasn't allowed to return to school for a week and a half.

It was around that time that his delusional thinking became more severe. He started to loose control of what he said, what he did, feeling almost as if he was watching himself from a distance. The internal voice threatening to gut anyone who touched him grew stronger, as did the more meaningless cries and the auditory hallucinations. He actually wrote a paper for class about what those voices said. He could tell the teacher was scared of him after that - she used to come right up to his desk to return his papers, but after that particular piece was turned in, she leaned over the person in front of him to give it back.

He also experienced odd psychotic or dissociative episodes in class. He was not himself; talking to things and people that weren't there. He once came into class and started moving his desk, stumbling around - people thought he was high or something, and were laughing at his behaviour, but he wasn't in any fear of judgement. He was talking with people freely and without resistance, and then when he would finally snap out of it, he'd be confused about what he was doing, where he was. He felt so out of place, out of reality, then all of a sudden he'd come back. Some people told him what he did, and he denied it. He hadn't known.

But when he was finally done with school, and was more than glad to be gone. He didn't have any plans of going to college, mainly due to the strong cravings for his desired isolation. However, his family had different plans, his grandparents forcing him to sign up for college (his mother didn't care what he did, so for once, played no part in his suffering). There was an entry exam that he intentionally failed so he wouldn't place. They were shocked he got the lowest class selection, and he only went to the class a few times before stopping going after a few weeks. His family didn't know for a good while, and they were so disappointed when they discovered it. They kept setting rules for him to either go to college or get a job, neither of which he was doing.

He left. He didn't know why, but one day, it seemed as if something internal willed him to get out as soon as possible, leaving without a plan, without any belongings other than the clothes on his back and a good wad of cash stolen from his grandparents - he was sure they wouldn't miss it, or him for that matter. The only one he paid a final visit to was his sister, Maszenka - she was the only part of his family he regrets abandoning to this day. Again, his association with people ceased, holding out wherever he could (including houses for sale, or abandoned buildings), and gradually his vulnerability began to waver and fade, weakening it's hold. As the initial host identity began to falter, another strong alter was forced to take it's place; the one influenced purely by hostility. His lust for violence and chaos began to drastically heighten as the fiendish alter became predominant, causing him to become increasingly more erratic and dysfunctional, and increasingly detached from human contact. To this day he exists in such a state, living off whatever the city gives him, letting people think of him how they will.

- Talyessin suffers from DID (dissociative identity disorder).
This is a mental disorder characterized by the appearance of at least two distinct and relatively enduring identities or dissociated personality states that alternately control a person's behaviour, accompanied by memory impairment for important information not explained by ordinary forgetfulness. Identities may be unaware of each other and compartmentalize knowledge and memories, resulting in chaotic personal lives. The "alters" or different identities may have their own age, sex, or race. Each has his or her own postures, gestures, and distinct way of talking. Sometimes the alters are imaginary people; sometimes they are animals. As each personality reveals itself and controls the individuals' behavior and thoughts, it's called "switching." Switching can take seconds to minutes to days. When under hypnosis, the person's different "alters" or identities may be very responsive to the therapist's requests.

Individuals with DID may be reluctant to discuss symptoms due to associations with abuse, shame and fear. There are several main ways in which the psychological processes of dissociative identity disorder change the way a person experiences living, including the following:
- Depersonalization. This is a sense of being detached from one's body and is often referred to as an "out-of-body" experience.
- Derealization. This is the feeling that the world is not real or looking foggy or far away.
- Amnesia. This is the failure to recall significant personal information that is so extensive it cannot be blamed on ordinary forgetfulness. There can also be micro-amnesias where the discussion engaged in is not remembered, or the content of a meaningful conversation is forgotten from one second to the next.
- Identity confusion or identity alteration. Both of these involve a sense of confusion about who a person is. An example of identity confusion is when a person has trouble defining the things that interest them in life, or their political or religious or social viewpoints, or their sexual orientation, or their professional ambitions. In addition to these apparent alterations, the person may experience distortions in time, place, and situation.
- Symptoms of depression, anxiety, passivity, dependence and guilt may be present.
- Self-destructive and/or aggressive behavior may take place.
- Visual or auditory hallucinations may occur.

It is now acknowledged that these dissociated states are not fully mature personalities, but rather they represent a disjointed sense of identity. With the amnesia typically associated with dissociative identity disorder, different identity states remember different aspects of autobiographical information.

- Vocabulary cheat sheet.
System: the various links between different DID alters, sometimes called the mental system.
Host Persona: the alter with the most power, can kick other personas from the physical body and take over, typically obeyed by others in the system with little resistance.
Conscious Persona: the alter that resembles conscious, usually extremely rational and logical.

gerard way as talyessin misora (likely subject to change)