// im gonna leave this here because homestuck is pissing me off again
that space game ive been wanting to get allows you to create your own solar systems and planets, so im like fuck it, im gonna make the troll planet(s). and my overachieving ass can’t just make the planet, no, i gotta read up on the canon info about the dim and dark seasons and “third autumn” or whatever the fuck, and try to figure out how this planet has these dim and dark seasons independent of spring, summer, etc, and how our standard four seasons can occur more than once a sweep. and of course ive gotta make a calendar to visualize all of this shit.
based on what i know about planets (because i actually am a nerd who watches space videos on youtube, it’s not just tuna saying that), my best guess so far has been that this planet has a pronounced axial tilt that wobbles very frequently. kind of like what a lot of people think about the Game of Thrones planet. i’m not too sure about the specifics yet, but the visual above is what i came up with last night.
today, i come back on here, and im like, “lemme look this up and see what planets do this in real life.” so i google it, and i read one article, and i go back to google, then i notice that most of the results are about the one same planet. then, i notice what theyre calling this planet.
This rat doesn’t know anything, but it knows that sometimes snacks fall into its cage, and sometimes the floor shocks its feet. It likes the snacks, and it hates the shocks. It will tell you to do things that produce snacks, and it will tell you not to do things that produce shocks.
This little rat is not the only power inside your head, and it might not be the strongest, but it’s there and it has influence.
So pay attention to how you’re treating the little rat.
If every time you learn something new, you say to yourself “ugh, I’m so ignorant for not already knowing this,” you’re shocking the rat. You’re teaching it to be afraid of learning new things, to associate it with embarrassment and self-criticism.
Remember to feed the rat instead. Tell it “now I know, and that is good,” and let it eat its snack in peace.
If every time you take care of yourself and your home, you say to yourself “ugh, I never do this enough, and I’ll never get it right,” you’re shocking the rat. You’re teaching the rat that it was safer when you didn’t try to take care of things.
Feed the rat instead. Praise what you have done, forgive what you haven’t, so the rat can feel safe.
When the rat takes a step in the right direction, even if the step is too small or slow or not in quite the right direction, feed it. Don’t shock it for being imperfect; it’ll only learn not to take any steps at all. Feed it, and let it get bolder, and take bigger steps, and give it bigger rewards for those bigger steps.
The key to getting over imposter syndrome is to know everyone else is an imposter too. Tell yourself you deserve a stake in the scam they’re all running.
