So I’m pretty tired of the Daily Prompt being a waste of time. I check it almost every day, and almost every day I’m disappointed because of how lame and pointless I feel the writing would be. I mean, if I’m going to procrastinate by writing then I want it to at least be something worthwhile and engaging for me. Thought provoking… something…

So today I did a Google search for ‘writing prompt’ and found this site.

Over 500 prompts…

And they’re not just prompts. They have articles, essays, and studies attached to them. There are also additional questions you can answer in relation to the articles or alternative lines of thinking for the prompt. It seems pretty nifty.

I’m sure not all of the prompts are going to be awesome. But I’m going to go through them, one day at a time.

So, the first prompt…

What was your most
precious childhood possession?

The article attached to this prompt was pretty interesting for me since it has to do with psychology and how children learn to cope with separation from their parents.

It was fascinating to realize that a lot of people actually still do this very thing; take comfort in some object to deal with separation, change, or stressful situations. I know at least I am guilty of it, but I’ll touch on that later.

My favorite possession of all time from my childhood is a killer whale stuffed animal that I named Willy after the movie Free Willy.

I have always been fascinated by whales, dolphins, and porpoises, which are all really from the same order of Cetacea (for more nerdy information go here). And as a kid I made my parents watch Free Willy until I’m sure they wanted to stab there eyes out.

My dream was to go to Sea World so I could touch a killer whale because I thought they were the coolest things of the face of the planet. And my stuff whale was with me for every trip I took, every time I stayed away from home, every doctor’s appointment I had…

He was my battle buddy. Every time I cried he was there for me to hold on to.

And I’m not ashamed to say that I still have him. He’s with a few other stuffed animals that I have kept and gathered over the years. He’s super dirty. You would think his white belly was naturally an icky grayish color instead of white. But I love him, and I’ll never get rid of him because even though I can’t remember all of the times he was there for me, I know that he was, and that he helped me get through a lot of things, including my parents divorce.

Now that I’m older I have sort of transitioned from Willy to my purple sheet. It’s a king sized sheet that I found at Goodwill shortly after moving to Florida. I loved the color, and there was just something about it that made me think, “I have to have this.”

It’s become a bit of a security blank for me. Whenever I have a super rough day, or get depressed I crawl under my sheet, or wrap myself up in it all burrito style and hide in the darkness for a little while until I’ve had enough alone time to decompress.

I would take the sheet with me to school while I was working 16 hours a day during finals and just sort of sit with it over my head. I still do that sometimes when I’m gaming. No reason other than because I want to.

I have been in every single one of these positions…

Whenever Zane and I are having a rough conversation I’ll hold on to my sheet, or play with a corner of it so I can have a part of it in my hands like a tether to reality.

While half my brain is terrified that things are falling apart and that I’ve made an awful choice, and I’ll never learn from my mistakes, and fire and brimstone from the sky, another part of my brain is soothed by the color, by the texture, by the familiar scent of lavender. It’s comforting and a reminder that I’ve had hard times before and that I survived them, and that even though what I’m going through is hard, I’ll survive it, too.

I actually was forced to watch the original Producers so I could understand the reference Zane kept making to my “blue blankie”. Because clearly purple is not blue…

I have several other ‘traditional objects’. One is a ribbon of sweetgrass worked into the shape of a flower that my younger brother made for me. It’s one of the few possessions I have from him.

Another is my bandana that I always wear. Purple, of course. It reminds me to think of myself, to take care of myself and to think about my goals, needs, and priorities, before focusing on other people.

I guess it seems sort of odd to need a reminder of yourself, but as an INFJ it is so easy for me to forget that I’m important, too. When ever I start feeling overwhelmed I’ll run my hand over it as if I’m brushing my hair back, and feeling the material, knowing that it’s there, comforts me. It gives me the strength to stand up for myself, when sometimes it seems like backing down would be the easier option. The safer option. The path of least resistance.

All of my workouts, my bandana has been there. All of the sweat and tears. All of the self doubt that played through my head. All of the triumph and accomplishment I felt when I beat my best time on something. Or lifted another rep. Or spun another mile. It reminds me that hard work is worth it, and that even if you don’t see the results right away, that time and dedication is all you need to reach what you want.

It’s my reminder that the only different between a dream and reality is hard work. It reminds me that my dreams are real. That’s it’s ok that I live in my own little world.

I refuse to leave home without wearing it. Like, hardcore, will not walk out the door, will punch people in the face if I can’t take it with me. And there is no substitute. It has to be the one true bandana or I’m not budging. It’s my new battle buddy and I can’t leave home without it.

Every card my mom has ever sent me since I left home… I normally have them taped up on the wall around my corkboard, but since I keep having to move around so much I haven’t had them up in a while. I’ve been meaning to do that since moving in with Zane. Maybe I’ll actually get around to it this weekend since I realize now that I have no visual reminder of my mom in my room at the moment. And I’m not ok with that.

My traditional objects may be really silly to someone else. Childish, cheesy, maybe even ridiculously lame. And I admit that seemingly trivial objects hold an insane amount of sentimental value for me. I about flipped shit when Shadow started trying to bite on my sweetgrass flower. I seriously considered changing the menu that night from chicken to Chinese.

It’s just a piece of dead grass part of my brain says. But it’s a sign of love and affection from my brother, and it’s important to me, and part of me will be crushed if anything happened to it. I need it with me, in my safe space, my little dragon den, to remind me that things are ok and that there are people who love me, which is what traditional objects are meant to do.

So yeah, I might be really weird, but I’m ok with that. I’ll just be over here…

by myself…

being awesome and shit. : D