Moonwolf's Werecard

From: barbturner@webtv.net (barbara turner)

Human name: Barbara Turner 
Werename: Moonwolf 
Phenotype; gray wolf 
Birthdate: 6/19/54
Birthplace: Ft. Worth TX 

Home Territory: St. Charles Missouri. I live with twin boys soon to be
13, a dachshund, black rabbit, gerbils, and a cockatiel. 
Dream territory: Forest with streams and lakes. 

Physical desc. human: 5'11", very heavyset, long dk. brown hair halfway
down back with a touch of gray at the temples, dk. brown eyes. Prefer to
wear black and gray loose-fitting clothes; wears silver jewelry,
including a flat silver band with running wolves engraved, and a silver
sculptured ring with 4 wolves. Wears glasses. 
Physical desc. were: like a regular shewolf, but half again as large.
White under chin, on chest, belly and inner legs; shaded gray markings
over the face and head, shoulders, legs, back and tail. Dk. brown eyes. 
Human career: currently on disability, formerly a mental health
casemanager / therapist. 

Hobbies/interests: reading (prefer nonfiction, such as life sciences,
sociology, psychology, cryptozoology, medicine, anthropology, animals
etc.), singing, collecting wolf stuff (surprise!), refunding/couponing
(yes, I know it's awfully mundane, but I'm trying to feed growing
boys!). Used to write, and draw and paint animals, and am getting back
to these. And I admit to being a television enthusiast: I watch
documentaries, Discovery Channel, Learning Channel Three Stooges, Red
Dwarf, MST3K, Mr. Bean, and various types of animation. I love long
drives in the country on dirt roads, especially at night, during a full
moon, and thunderstorms. 
Fav. movie: It's a Wonderful Life (yeah, I know it's corny, but I love
it anyway!) 
Fav. were movie: Wolfen, The Company of Wolves 
Fav. Literature; Stephen King 
Fav. were literature: The Lay of Bisclavret(?sp) 
Fav. saying/ quote: "If you can't teach me how to die, don't tell me
how I should live." "The Plainsman", don't know author. 
Fav. were saying/quote: "Yelling and screaming can make the Change all
by themselves, if a Wolf does it long enough." _The Talisman_ , Stephen
King and Peter Straub. 
Fav. personal quote: "Who said life's fair?", me to my kids daily. 
Fav. song/band: no way can I pick just one or even a few! Fairport
Convention (esp. the Liege and Lief album, with "Tam Lin" and "Crazy Man
Michael"), Steeleye Span, Chieftains (early stuff), R.E.M., Men at Work,
U2, Brewer & Shipley (esp. "Song from Platte River"), Grateful Dead, Tom
Petty, Creedence, Pink Floyd, They Might Be Giants, Weird Al Yankovic,
Jethro Tull; classical inc. Bach, Beethoven, Handel, Liszt; and surely
more... 
Fav. Season: autumn, then winter 
Fav. Holiday: Christmas (as a midwinter festival, Halloween 

Preferred Prey: deer, rabbit, fish. And some human food is just as good:
Chinese and Mexican food. (My kids have gotten me burnt out on pizza.)
In dreams I have killed humans who were dangerous or stupid, or both. 
Preferred method of attack: large prey - run with the pack, then leap
for the muzzle. Small prey - stalk, pounce, and snap! 
Fav. nonwere mythological beast: unicorn 
Feelings toward vampires: depends on the individual. 
Feelings toward normal humans: (hmmm...I could ask what's normal, but I
won't go there) I have gotten to know quite a number of them while I was
working, and feel most of them have basically good, if uninformed,
intentions. I don't socialize much, don't have more than a couple of
friends, who I still keep at arms' length. I can do only so much
socialization a day without ill effects, and esp. No Crowds (over 3
people). 


Personal Therianthropy 

	(Putting this together has been an intense experience for me, 
as I have _never_ let myself talk about this or even hint at it since I was young.) 

	I have known the wolves from my earliest memories. At age 3, they would come 
and play with me in the back yard with myself and my dog (spirit wolves?). When I 
told my mother about the "woofs", she applied a switch to a tender portion of my 
anatomy, and told me to "quit talking crazy". I learned well, not to tell about my
"imaginary friends". 

       Like so many of you, I felt different from others as a child. There seemed to 
be an uncrossable gulf between myself and other human beings. Other kids thought 
I was weird. My family didn't know what to make of my withdrawal and compulsive 
reading of all kinds of books (I taught myself to read at age 3). I liked 
fairy tales, but didnt understand the ones with bad wolves in them. I 
had no concept of an evil wolf. 

	I always have felt closer to animals than to humans. Walking around the 
neighborhood as a child, I said hello to all my canine and feline friends. 

	At age 8, I felt perpetually desperate, caged in
a human world, locked in a human body that I could not even get to work
very well. After much thought and soul-searching, I decided that my
misery was due to being an animal soul born into a human body. 

	What kind of animal? "A wolf!" my old friends gleefully 
informed and welcomed me. I was in a corner of the playground
during recess. I felt myself drop to all fours, felt fur growing, felt
my fingers and toes change into paws. There, I had my first shift - a
mental shift, though I could feel my body change, though no one else
could tell anything was different. My human shell walked back into the
school, while I myself was a half-grown pup, running with the pack. It
was great! 

	The pack taught me many things: how to get close to 
wild animals, how to conceal myself, how to catch creatures.
The full moon transported me: on those nights, I would unhook the screen
of my window, sneak out into the back yard, and _howl_! 

	Family life was getting worse, and school was terrible. I 
longed to leave my body and go be a wolf. The only way I could 
figure to do it permanently was to kill my body. Starting at age
12, this began a decade of repeated suicide attempts by various methods.
I was in and out of hospitals, on all kinds of medications, and even was
given shock treatments. I wouldn't tell anyone why I wanted to get rid
of the body. The whole time I had been in treatment, I never _ever_ told
anyone about the wolves and my wereness. Who knows what they might have
done to me? 

	With all this, rather surprisingly, I was able to go on to 
college, first studing preveterinary studies, then wildlife
science. A dream came true; I was allowed to acquire a wolf pup, eyes
still closed, from an animal dealer. I took him everywhere in a special
pack, and fed him during lectures. He was the brightest spot in my life.
Horribly, though, severe depression descended on me again, due to
neurochemical imbalances, and I was once again hospitalized, this time
for 6 months. He was put in a foster home to await my release, but
refused to eat and died before I got out. 

	I didn't care anymore after that. I dropped out of school 
and began drinking, smoking and ingesting various legal and illegal 
substances. Married a man I'd known for 2 weeks, had a baby,
divorced and went on welfare. And in all this, I lost the pack and lost
touch with my own wereness. 

	After several years, I pulled myself together enough to 
go back to college. I had discovered as a patient that my
fellow patients were desperate to talk to someone who had been where
they had been., and I found I had a knack for talking with them. So I
majored in social work and psychology. I married again and gave birth to
twin boys. Degree in hand, I was hired by the local public mental health
clinic, where the people go who cant afford the private shrinks. I loved
it! Again divorced, I got my M.S. in counseling and moved north to a
better-paying job with more responsibility. I was really going
somewhere. I put any urges or thoughts of wereness from my mind. After
all, that didn't fit with my image of a hard-working, professional,
responsible single parent. 

	But I still felt so empty.... 

	In '92 everything crashed. I burnt out majorly: the clinic's
focus had changed from rehabilitating people as much as possible,
to giving them drugs and sticking them in a cheap apartment and
a low-paying job, even people who needed more supervision
and help than could be offered. I could see the purpose that had ruled
my life for so long going down the drain. My illness came back on me and
I was asked to leave my job. At home, I just laid on the couch all the
time. Then came the big Flood of /93, and we lost all our possessions.
It was definitely one of the lowest points of my life. 

But something happened in the summer of '95 to change my 
outlook. I was sitting next to the front door reading, when
I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. It was a big,
cream-colored wolf, looking in at me through the screen! I felt utterly
astonished, went out on the porch and talked with him, asking him "Where
did you come from?" He laid a huge paw in my lap. I started wondering if
this was a regular wolf (in the middle of the city, right!), or if it
was a were. I was caught in an incredible rush of wanting to shift and
to run with him. 

	My son called me back inside for a phone call. The wolf
looked in at me, raised his muzzle and gave a low, quiet howl,
and looked steadily at me. He repeated this twice. I put down the
phone, and my son closed the front door. By the time I got the door open
again, the wolf was gone. (And you can bet, I said plenty to my son!) 

	This was a real turning point for me. I realized that 
the emptiness I had felt was that of not accepting a large
part of myself. I started feeling myself as a wolf again, and reading
and watching everything I could find on wolves and weres. I found again
the affinity I had for animals. I found that my wolfness is an integral
part of my _healthy_ self. It seems to be inversely correlated to my
mental health: the more wolf I am, the better I feel. My self-esteem and
assertiveness are stronger. My casemanager has watched me improving over
the last couple of years. She asks me how I'm doing it; I just smile and
say "Lots of hard work!" I have never, and never will, tell mental
health staff about my therianthropy. 

	I dream every night and usually remember bits and pieces.
Sometimes I have a "dream hangover", where the dream circumstances
exist in my mind along with the waking state. In about
half the dreams, I find myself as a wolf, or I p-shift. Even in mental
shifting, I feel myself in a sort of phantom wolf's body. Life, for me,
is divided into "awake" and "asleep". It's like transitioning back and
forth between different dimentions. Dreams are just as physical and
sensory as"awake" life. 

	I hope this all doesn't sound hokey or crazy. I have never
told anyone about all this, fearing ridicule at least, or
ostracism at best. I hope these will all sound familiar to someone.