I have briefly mentioned in the past, that I identify as someone who feels as if they are an “animal” in a human body. I am well aware of the fact that I am human, and quite happy to to have opposable thumbs. This doesn’t change the fact that on a much deeper level, I tune in very easily with a more “primal” self. That part of myself has a non-human form in my mind. My internal symbolism seems to stay pretty consistent.
By tuning into that animal-self, I can bring myself to a different level, where I can do things I am unable to do, in a “normal” state of mind. One thing that I find this works quite well for, is enduring pain.
As a woman, and as myself in general, I experience a variety of physical pains on a number of levels. I don’t believe that animals don’t experience pain in the same way that we do. We feel the same “pain” but don’t share all of the same experiences that go along with the sensation of pain. Pain is something we fear, pain is something that we shy away from, and it is our fear and human thoughts about the pain, what is causing it, etc that makes it a different experience as a human.
Now, as humans we are still animals, but it’s difficult to reach down into ourselves and put aside human fears, and embrace the part of ourselves that knows how to just “be” despite any painful sensations that are felt.
When I need to, I’ve found that I can drop into a more animalistic state, by focusing on bringing the image of my animal-self to the forefront, and becoming that image. With this “shapeshifting” technique of sorts, I can bring the animal-self forward to deal with physical pain. Depending on what I’m doing, this can help manage the pain a lot, or a little.
I find it easier to push through pain when I’m in a state like this. I think of it a controlled “disassociation” the animal self deals with the pain, while the human self deals with higher thinking. They are both very clearly “me” despite being able to switch out these aspects as needed.
The importance here is control. The human self is not incapable of handling pain, and sometimes someone does need to evaluate how badly they are actually injured. Moving through pain isn’t always the best option, and the sensation is there for a reason. I’ve heard of lizards who will get their toenails stuck on something, keep pulling, and merrily walk away without half a toe, as if nothing ever happened.
Animals can also react badly, depending on what is causing the pain, or if they perceive someone or something, as a potential threat. The human mind should never be put away entirely, or we lose ourselves to simple reaction: fight or flight.
As this separation of human and animal is a coping mechanism I created as a child, yes I have lost myself to that sort of impulsive behavior before when working with this structure. No, it isn’t safe, and while I am certainly not a psychologist, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s this kind of disassociation, and loosing yourself within the animal-self that leads to clinical lycanthropy. I walked the edge as a child in this regard. There were times I didn’t think I was human at all, and this did affect how I viewed, experienced, and treated the world.
Messing with the mind like this isn’t safe if you don’t understand what you’re doing. (Hell, even if you THINK you know what you’re doing you probably don’t understand all the implications, I sure don’t always, though it helps that I try.) But as long as you have control, as long as you understand on some level the roles these parts of yourself play, I don’t see problems with using techniques like this to do things like dull the pain of menstruation, or keeping your body moving in the cold when you’re already sore and exhausted, and trying very hard to get somewhere safe.
“Shapeshifting” in my experience, is much more than just feeling a second skin, a second body-shape over your physical human one. I think a lot of books neglect this sort of warning. Then again, it’s possible that most people stop at the “ooh, I feel like I have wings, or a tail!” stage, and don’t push beyond that. It could just be that because I developed this sort of thing originally as a coping mechanism, that I went deeper than most people. But to me, it’s an invocation, and a connection to the more primal nature of the self. Sometimes that isn’t pretty or kind. Nature certainly isn’t.
