On Nightmares and Forgotten Heroes

I wanted to grow up to be a knight.

Stop me if you've heard this one before. Before I continue, I suggest you read that post if you haven't. It deals with the need for good role models, especially queer ones, super especially for kids. However, today I'll be exploring the other side of this; what happens when you see someone who reflects you a bit too hard. Not a role model as in someone you strive to never be, but a mirror showing you at your worst.

It also deals with my own self-loathing and depression, my own flaws. But as I glorify heroes, so I should also count our flaws. Fiction is powerful; undeniably so. Sometimes, though, the marks it carves in us bleed like wounds and heal up poorly, leaving but an ugly scar on us.

This is a deeply personal, depressive post talking about self-harm, anger, rages, and other possibly triggering material. Also contains some spoilers for Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

Let's expose my wounds.

( I couldn't protect anyone... )