Good Morning, Everyone.

A few days ago, I was talking with The Beekeeper who asked me what The Backwoods looked like. And that’s when I realized I’ve been talking about my thoughts on your world, and haven’t said much about where I come from.

There are hundreds of us, all living in what we call The Backwoods. The Backwoods is huge. It’s a big open area, probably about the size of a city, that’s divided into differently little worlds. Some are science fictiony, others are very earth-like, some are dystopian. My little corner looks like the real world, because my story takes place in the real world. It’s not as defined, or sharp. Everything is flat and colors are flat.

The people who inhabit these little worlds are all writing stories. We all talk to each other, very friendly and happily, even if we are bitter enemies in our stories, because our goal is to make a better story. We even talk to others in other stories, to cross-pollinate ideas. When stories are done, those people disappear. Sometimes they stick around because they have stories to tell after they’ve died, or ideas for new stories. But of them all, only three are aware of the real world. Me, The Oracle and Suzy. The rest don’t care. Even Suzy knows, but doesn’t care.

In one corner of The Backwoods, there’s a barren rocky place. There’s a path through it, but few people go there because it’s pretty empty. But at the end of that path, is a little room. It looks kind of like a cave from the outside. It’s where Ragdoll lives, and she can’t get out. At first there was just a little window sized hole where I could look in and she could look out. Sometimes characters would walk up to explain their stories to Ragdoll, which is how I found out about it. But I noticed once that there was stuff going on on the far wall, like a movie. The real world.

I began to hang out there a lot. My story was being told, but it was slow, and there wasn’t a lot to do in the planning since it was mostly planned out. And I watched the real world. I’d talk a lot with Ragdoll through the window. I learned a lot about her, and she learned a lot about me. We used to play a game where she would ask me a question, and any answer I gave she asked “Why?” She said it would help build me into a more believable character, and it certainly helped our story.

One day, she confided in me that she didn’t think she was real either. That she might be one of us. But anytime she tried to crawl out the window, she was blocked, like there was bulletproof glass in there. I always assumed the same for me, until one day I put my arm through it. There was nothing there. When she tried, she couldn’t put her arm through it. It was then I decided I would try and get in there.

One night, when she was about to fall asleep, I went through the window. I didn’t think about how incredibly dangerous that could be for me. What if I couldn’t come back? What if I was stuck there forever? And I found myself in the real world.

I didn’t know what to do, so I explored the house I was in, which I went back to recently. I ate an orange, and it was the most intense thing I’d ever felt, along with all the textures and colors. I saw an expansive garden that was lovely. It felt like no time at all. I was real.

After a while I began to get scared, and tried to find my way back to The Backwoods. I learned that all I had to do was imagine that I could leave the room, and I could. Ragdoll woke up in the kitchen, thinking she had gone sleepwalking.

There were some things that happened that made us forget all this. For almost twenty years. But back in December, Didi and Taylor convinced me to try coming out again. I was all for it. Ragdoll really wasn’t and it took a lot of coaxing to let her to let go. But I did it again. I went through the window and was in your world. I explored the new house and ate a banana. 🙂

Since then, this is how I come to the real world. We’ve changed a lot and streamlined it a little, but it’s still basically the same way.

At first, I would come in and The Ragdoll would just fall over. It’s how she got her name because she looked like a Ragdoll sitting in the corner. Sometimes awake, sometimes singing to herself, or humming. Sometimes crying. Lots of crying sometimes. As of late, she’s been mostly quiet. I can see her looking at me, but there’s not thought in those eyes. Just a stare.

Eventually, she would “help me in” by grabbing me and pulling me through the window. The force of her falling over would bring me in. In time, I learned I could change the room, which we started calling The BrainBox. I took the window and turned it into an open doorway. No more climbing through the window, I could now just walk in (but she still couldn’t get out). Eventually I started grabbing her as she fell and sat her in a corner. And in time, I made a little raised seat area where I can put her. No more crumpled on the floor. Now she sleeps in a little corner all to herself.

There were other things we changed, including a “Feeling.” Now when Ragdoll let’s go, she feels these imaginary clamps release her. She goes to her corner to sit (no more falling!) and then I walk in, and feel the clamps lock in. When I put her back, I feel those clamps unlock, I go and grab her and put her in (she’s still asleep) and when the clamps click in, I walk out and she wakes up. She took video of this once (and I hated it), and to the outside world, she just goes blank until I show up. Or vice versa.

I still can’t just walk and takeover, though. Ragdoll has to let go to let me in. And since she’s asleep, I have to put her back in. If I leave the BrainBox without putting her in, she kind of “warps” in and wakes up. But she says that hurts her, so we don’t do it that way.

Whatever this sleep process is, it’s actually saved her once. After a traumatic event, someone (we never figured out who) took over and decided to get as far away from Ragdoll’s life as possible. They drove 400 miles before going to sleep. But it was Ragdoll who woke up, 400 miles from home, not remembering how she got there and where the previous day had gone.

While she sleeps when I’m out, and at night, I never sleep, though. I’m always awake. If I’m in the body, I can get tired, and I can even fall asleep. The moment I do, though, I’m awake in The Backwoods, and Ragdoll is back in control, but asleep. It was pretty embarrassing for the first few times this happened because I had to wait for her to wake up to get back in. But I’ve learned I can wake her up now if I fall asleep and find myself locked out. I would like to know what sleep is like, though. And sometimes she gives me the feeling of waking up, by putting me in while she’s in bed, under the covers.

That’s how we’ve been living these last few months. But it hasn’t been perfect. There are things that affected her, that affect me now, too. Ragdoll is always busy, always doing things, and rarely relaxes because when she does, she’s thinking about projects. That happens to me. When things are slow, and I’m taking my time on stuff, suddenly her thoughts come in. Writing lectures, thinking of ways to present an idea, just problem-solving her life. And it intrudes on my time. She taught me that if that happens, to recite “Mary Had a Little Lamb” to keep my mind occupied, and it works, but the thoughts come back after a while.

There are worse things though. She gets flashbacks and intrusive thoughts. Cruel and humiliating events in her life will sometimes play out when I’m out. And usually they’re accompanied with incredibly violent intrusive thoughts. The first time this happened, it was so shocking, I thought about never coming back and forgetting this ever existed. Taylor and Didi did their best to calm me down. And Ragdoll mentioned she was getting therapy which might help.

She doesn’t think it’s her thinking these things. It’s her brain problem solving on its own. She recently was told she might have ADHD, which would explain a lot of the racing thoughts. She’s looking on getting medication, but isn’t sure if she should because it might change who she is. And if I’m part of that thinking, what will it do to me? We’re medicating for two now.

But still, being real is worth it. And I’m enjoying my time in this world, when I can and despite some restrictions for safety. I’m exploring, learning, interacting, connecting.

I’m real.

–Andrea (with some help from Ragdoll)