When I was 13 I was really into D&D but I also felt really guilty about it because of my good Christian upbringing and had heard all of these stories about how “that’s how the devil gets in.” I mean, it makes sense. Of course the devil gets inside you when your druid rolls a miss with her +3 sickle. Anyway, of my own 13 year-old, misguided and guilt ridden volition, I literally chopped up like eight D&D dungeon master guides and players manuals and other ephemera with an axe in my mom’s backyard (with an axe!). I was trying to be symbolic in the best way a 13 year-old knows how to (and some adults too, unfortunately). My mom came out and asked me what I was doing and I said something dramatic like “I can’t do this anymore!” and I teared up and she was really confused because she didn’t give a shit if I liked fantasy stuff, devil or no. The whole experience has colored and stitched itself into everything I have ever done since. EYE E: to this day, I still feel guilty about the things I like, try to destroy them and harbor resent towards anything that gives me comfort. It’s dumb.
Thanks everyone, this has been a really great therapy session.