Whumpee who doesnât know who they are. Not in an amnesia sense or anything, but a âI donât know what my favorite color isâ kind of way.
Likes and dislikes, a personality of any kind wasnât conducive to the life they had lived up until now, and it felt like they were starting from scratch.
Every decision takes seemingly forever as they searched through fragments of what little they knew about themselves. Did they want the blue toothbrush, or the green one? Did they prefer a hoodie or a sweater? Did they actually not care, or did they just not know?













