Things were always a bit… difficult for me I think. I’m a carvation, raised in The Village for all of my life really. When I hatched out of my egg as a frog variant, I started more as a tadpole. I had a large tail that weighed me down and made walking pretty hard at an early age. It shrank a bit as I grew up, but it’s still there. I just use magic to hide it most of the time. Luckily enough, I had my older sister by about 45 years to help me do things. She was a deer variant like our dad, while mine was from my mom.

As I grew up, I can’t say I connected to many other carvations. Maybe a couple, but they usually left to go to The Living while I stayed living in The Village. And friends that didn’t leave… well to put it lightly, they made me leave because of how they made me feel. So I didn’t really have any friends at all. I got by fine though. I did a lot of writing with stories and poems and everything like that. I don’t even know where it came from, but I just wrote piles upon piles of book manuscripts that I had stacked up in my room. I never share them with anyone though. I mean, I clearly write with quantity over quality in mind with how much I do, so I doubt anyone would want to read all the junk I’ve just hoarded up.

Most days went by with me waking up, eating breakfast, writing, doing music, eating lunch, more writing, more music, eating dinner, more writing, more music, then going to bed. In between, I got snacks, maybe got dragged out of the house, and withstood my family in general. I tried my best to keep to my own though.

I, myself, am slightly lean for a carvation, which is to say I looked normal for a human. Most people are attracted to my extremely curly, very long, brown hair that stretched down to breast-length if I forced it to be straight. Who knows how long it would actually be if I straightened it properly. I wore clothes that cover me up a lot usually, and just kept my hair in a low ponytail typically. Sometimes I let my hair fully spread out and the curls completely came out. Looked like a full lion’s mane if I did it right. But any other hairstyles and I risk Dad telling me I look too femanine to go out with. So I just keep it discreet, because I already know he doesn’t fully like me keeping my hair long to begin with.

The one family member I usually didn’t mind was my older sister, Isa. She had her wavy, short light brown hair in a pixie cut, and small doe horns that poked out. She was a doe variant, which she got from Dad. Isa was probably the most tolerable person in my family, if I had to judge. She also had a job down in The Living being an actor, and spent days down there at a time sometimes. She’s still the sweetest sister I could’ve asked for though. Supports me and anything I do. 

Dad was a stag variant, with small antlers like my sister. He had brown hair that was really wavy, and wore a permanently tired expression. He always looks like he needs another few hours of sleep. He worked out at an office job, and was usually gone for the entire day except usually on weekends. He helps me with things a lot, and I know he wants to see me succeed at whatever I want to do, but he’s a bit too set back in his ways about how things should be sometimes. More set back that he cares to admit or realize. Makes us not see eye-to-eye pretty frequently. He’s got a lot on his plate though, between work, the family, and… Mom. He’s too tolerant of her sometimes. Well, too tolerant of her all the time.

Mom is a special type of… mother, if I can call her that. Like me, she was a frog variant of carvation. While the rest of my family, me included, looked more lean, my mom had a bit more body fat than a normal carvation body. Nevertheless, she insists all the time that she’s unhealthily big, and tries to skip meals and tells us it’s because she doesn’t want to get bigger. Real great environment to be in, I know. Then there’s when she’s angry, and goes off at us, saying the worst things, but usually circling back to that we don’t want her around and that we don’t love her. Everyone tries to avoid her when they can. I really do wonder how she has friends. She’s got issues, and I don’t really want to deal with them.

Living like this for years has been pretty hard on me. I’ve gone through cycles of depression without telling anyone for years. When life gets stressful, or when I just get in a rut, sometimes I just shut down completely and act like the world outside my room doesn’t exist. I don’t write, do music, eat, or do anything without someone forcing me to do it. And no friends meant that nobody was really pulling me out of it. That meant I was used to spiraling out of proportion whenever it struck. 

Lately, Mom has been worse though with all of her comments and anger. Some days she carves an anger warpath then cries to me minutes later about how sorry she is and how she wants to be better. Makes me confused and conflicted on how to feel. I want to leave Mom out of my life completely, but she keeps leaving me wanting to give her second chances and try to help her. But years have gone by of that, and I just haven’t been able to do it. Has made me start to reach my breaking point and push me over the edge to another fit of depression.