“Normal Jess”- The *gift* dissociation gave us…

Dissociation lets me handle this in doses. Dissociation lets me not feel all of it. I can do somethings some other parts can’t do. I am Erzsebet. I am writing this right now to help. That’s mostly what I do. Help out.

Dissociation is us.

We all have different opinions on this but let me tell you the gift it gave us:

A “Normal Jess.”

She lived her life (our life) like nothing ever happened. Yeah she was shy and weird and people seemed to act odd around her, and she could never place why. Yet she held her head up high with dreams of being like the super heroes she read about who fought for peace and love. The families willing to die for families. The followers of faith in love who could die happy if it was dying for goodness sake. She wanted to be like them, wanting to believe they could even exists. If they could, why could she not be one?

This Jess, see, she never met any of us. She never understood why She had some random weird feelings. Feelings of fear and discomfort when around family or males, or feelings of loneliness when surrounded by people she should have been okay to talk to. She had a family, with a mom and a dad who always took good care of her, and four older brothers who were mean like any brothers can be but they were funny and nice and still loved her too. Yet something inside was missing and she found herself often sitting on the porch at night looking at the stars, searching. Screaming in her mind, begging someone to answer. Some of us felt sad for her, and our heart ached. Parts want to sooth the pain.

Slowly, we began answering her when she gazed at the night. Quietly, gently we were talking to her. She didn’t always respond. Yet we heard her thinking over the things we said. She didn’t quite understand what this was but it was so rare she didn’t much think about it being a problem. There was just these quiet voices that seemed far away and she just thought maybe that was some weird memory of someone else’s voice. She had no reason to think anything bad about it or herself. It wasn’t like she saw people standing next to her talking to her.

Then one day, she met us, shall we say, “in person.” She was there. We were there standing in front of her. All at once. Here now we are in this room and she saw us all. How she found us, we are not entirely certain. It started with prayer, became a sort of trance, and then she was there, in the depths of her mind. She used this visualization to represent a self discovery into the depths of her mind that she had a feeling were “hidden.” Then, she found a house in the woods, down a long path at the end of a tall grassy field.

Morrighan stands on the porch and utters the words “Shit. It’s Jess.” It catches the attention of several of us, but several more of us run and hid. Jey directed them away, and they lock the door behind them.

On this day Jessica met some of us. And she heard our memories, our first hand account stories. And she remembered the days in group therapy seemed to give us hope. We wanted to be like those people who believed in helping hurt little children. Helping anyone, really, become happier and feel safe. We began reading into psychology. Our years of looking at the stars wanting to be an astronomer to search outward, now became a study of an inward universe. Oh, and what stars we discovered. Jess didn’t really understand what happened to us because she never felt it, didn’t known all the facts because some were kept from her, but she felt empathy for our pain.

Now, as a person who seems to have this normal functioning brain, she can look at us in a way that we can’t, caught deep in this web. She can see what the psychologists see. She can understand the inner workings of the possible causes. She knows everything psychology knows, and we know everything they don’t. With the help of both these sides, she forms some interesting hypotheses that are unique.

Because we can have our own neutral person with an understanding of psychology, we have been able to do much of our therapy ourselves. Working on internal communication. Working on keeping as many of us present as possible. Helping younger ones mature and “age” so we can be on the proper level for adulthood. Sometimes though, it becomes exhausting. We need a little extra help every now and then. Just like anyone who eats healthy and exercises but has to occasionally see a doctor.

With the therapy Jess had done research into, she eventually unlocked the door where Jey hid behind and took others (including myself) with them. By the way, I say “they/them” because Jey is the androgyny who wants to remain genderless. She didn’t so much unlock the door as reawaken Jey and catch their attention so they began releasing the others and the information they kept one by one.

We are also caught in this conflict. Now that we know all of us, we began to search others like us. Many parts of us can see things from a perspective that many others do, whom also have dissociative identities or are plural identities. A type of perspective that sort of inhibits connecting us all and complete integration. While there is this part free of all the nonsense of abuse who just sees psychology. And this “Normal Jess” can see a perspective where psychologists agree that this is a disorder in life and self awareness, and can be repaired or reconnected.

The gift of Normal Jess lets us get an understanding of how others view us. We then know how to better change the views of them if we can better understand what they see that causes misconceptions. Only through others eyes can we know how they see.

There has come a bit of self hate with it. Jess wishes we would go away sometimes, even once tried to tell us to go away, screaming like she could command us. That’s not how this works. We are not entirely sure how this works, but pretty sure so far the understanding is, unless we all can get along, we can’t get ANYWHERE.

Integration or co-conscious, we are now aware of us all. As well as now becoming aware that there seems to be more than ONE “Jess.” We also mostly now accept our birth name, and understand it’s who we actually are. I mean common practice proves that you are physically born and parents pick your name. So none of us can deny this body or our given name, but we retain our names because we still have separate sets of memories and experiences. It is my question to wonder if we just learn to function as one externally, and we agree upon a uniform to have. So that everything out of this mouth is something voted on and we each still get our own special moments but we all can share the joy. Believing this and feeling full integration is something that maybe doesn’t actually occur, but nobody will dare point it out.The thing is, you cannot time travel back in time. You cannot make a part live an experience they didn’t live. Just like I feel having something happen to a person’s body while unconscious will be a completely different experience if said person had been awake. Then just the same, so we seem to be forever separate in our past memories. This is something I think many integrated don’t even realize but is true for everyone. You can’t relive so you can’t integrate all experiences.

The gift of Normal Jess let us become a normal Jess as needed. It is necessary to survive in this world. The gift of Normal Jess will give us a spokesperson who can listen to the psychology mumbo jumbo and repeat it back to us so we understand it or repeat back our opinion about it. The gift of Normal Jess is a better understanding and compromise between us dissociative identities and the psychology world.

The gift of Normal Jess seems to let us be able to do somethings others can’t or have no interest in doing. Which is, further study into just how “crazy” or not we really are. Study of the brain’s physical functions in connection to awareness. Further examination into if we need to change or if we can’t even. We want to live our lives. She is working on making our lives something livable, I suppose.

We will just see if she gets any attention or opens any minds in the field of psychology or in the realm of others who are dissociative. We will just see if she finds a way to heal us and stop us from having a dysfunctional life like we have sometimes. Not because of having separate identities, but because of the things needed to heal in each of these hurt and suffering identities.

We want you to know this one truth: The identities are NOT the problem. They are all valid equal parts of the whole being you see before you. The problem is the pain and disorder each identity feels.

We all are different people in different situations. And on this Christmas day, we prepare to let Normal Jess do her thing and be presentable. In the face our our distress, she is “Normal Jess” here to save us. Family and holidays are not easy with suffering done by the hands of family and with suffering of family loved and lost.

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Do you know where you go when you are not present? Dissociation and elaborate internal world experiences.

So, I just have to ask others who have Dissociative Identity Disorder, do you know where you go when you are not present?

Sometimes it feels like sleep or like you were just daydreaming and not really focusing. Or like a blink and time is missing.

As we have connected more, co conscious more, we have built a very elaborate internal world. That is where some of us go. It started with therapy, where we would visualize comforting things for the children, or visualize a place they could go play, a playroom of sorts, so they were not present during adult things or things that may be bad for young minds to witness. This practice evolved to something more.

Vividly we visualize a representation of each of our thoughts/voices, shooting around in here. We all “materialize” before each other and have our “conference” on whatever we all know about that is happening. It’s so elaborate I’ve a whole house with many rooms on top of our own separate bedrooms, and you can walk out onto a porch for a view of a field of tall grass that ends in a wooded area. I’m not delusional, I understand this isn’t physically happening, but it feels a very real experience at times. So, sometimes when we have inner struggles, we get a visual to represent it. Physical altercations, even. Sometimes our representation will resemble how we feel, even beaten and bruised. We can even be the cause of it to each other. Especially if we are fighting on who should be “in control.” It’s strange. I’m slowly figuring this out.

I just wondered if anyone else diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder had ever had an elaborate “internal world” experience, or something similar, where they built their own conference area to communicate, seeing each other as each other’s truest selves and form.

Forums, Fakers, and Fears

There are a lot of support forums out there relating to Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, and other terms used for those experiencing and living with what was formerly known as (and many would know as) “multiple personalities.” I came to these forums looking for solidarity. I don’t want to feel so “unique.” It baffles me why in these forums you have people faking and role playing, getting a kick out of this and trying to feel special. In many these forums, they let people in who have not be formally diagnosed. Many people come in saying they “feel like” this makes the most sense, but they have limited knowledge of psychology and physiology, as well as unknowledgeable of how the brain works, or how we develop to even make such a claim. So it seems more like the problem common with self diagnosis – you can read any general material on many issues and find you can some how fall into that category. These people who don’t fully understand the details can make mistakes in their health choices. Some mistakes can be harmful….Sometimes harmful to a whole group of people, not just yourself.

You can look, an average person with no diagnosed issues, on many symptoms and find at least a few you can relate to some time. Then, you start freaking out in some hypochondriac illusion. This is why you need to go to an informed professional. What’s worse than these people trying to diagnose themselves, they also want to have a “say” in what is “right or wrong” in the explanation of the symptoms and reality of what is D.I.D. This is where we have trouble. If we can’t stick to the facts for what the science and medical fields know of for DID then we can’t get help for issues from these fields for our DID.

I feel only people actually diagnosed should be talking to other people actually diagnosed. These are the people who are trying the same things you are and can give you encouragement and solidarity. These people have gotten support behind them of a knowledgeable educated professional, through scrutiny, just like you. It’s not easy to get a diagnosis so if they get it then trust they know how you feel and are not faking it. I know, there can be some undiagnosed, but for the safety of your healing you have to limit inclusion. You have to watch out for those that can lead you down a dark path away from healing. Like those who are trying to convince the world that this should not be diagnosed as a disabling problem, that it should never be an excuse or dismissal of a crime (basically you deserve jail instead of mental health help if you dissociated and commit a crime) or adamant that it’s not any kind of unnaturally occurring thing at all. That being “multiple” is just a normal human development as being a “singlet.” Denial hurts us all if it spans out in destructive disinformation.

Here’s a problem, there are many things that can be mistaken for DID. This is a problem because you cannot get the best help for yourself. It is highly recommended and beneficial to seek a professional diagnosis. If you truly believe you have DID but can’t seem to find a doctor to agree, you don’t give up. There are those that do but it’s to their demise. Even if you have to travel, you can find a specialist so don’t stop seeking help.

Your mental health stability controls your whole living stability, so you must bite the bullet and put your needs before wants. I paid out of pocket for the specialist who was informed enough to finally give me a diagnosis. This shows my determination to get better. We don’t saunter around in chats or forums describing extremely dramatic situations and catastrophes online on a daily basis, in desperate need of support. We don’t go looking for confirmation of our DID by asking opinions of others who allegedly have DID. So, this is another problem. Fakers have time to fill up forums with all this nonsense so that this is mostly what people find when seeking information. So, this leads to misinformation. I’m sorry but as I said, mental health is important and I was willing to pay out of pocket for what my insurance didn’t cover even. It cannot make sense that people would spend all this time in forums looking for approval or help from people who need help themselves, that should be spent reading up on dissociation or with a professional or practicing skills you should learn that help you control this.

I am officially diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. So if I am not fake, then why am I here rambling on about it online where everyone can see? Why suddenly stop trying to keep it secret, like it’s said true DID people would want to? Well, I spent a lot of time trying to not believe this. Now I’m trying to accept it, accept myself. It will be easier if other people can accept it too. It’s difficult when the only people speaking out about it are the lying fakers and trying to make money off of shock value. I’m not taken seriously because these fakers make it seem like a joke. It seems like child’s play and role play so it’s seen as make believe and like we can just “stop acting.” So where do we start to combat the voices of fakers? WE START WITH OUR VOICE. Then, we find the voices of others like us, officially diagnosed and wanting to stick to the facts accepted on D.I.D. or at least doing their part to help studies for new and better understandings of it.

I used to spend a lot of time trying to hide what we are. Most of us know to respond to the name Jessica, though most of the time we just had to respond to the nickname “Sissy.” I had some strange behavior but it seemed like my parents didn’t really see it as negative. Or it happened a lot in private and in play time. Until it affected me in highschool, making me have an episode of extreme agoraphobia. I begged for therapy at 15 because I didn’t want to feel this way. I was a little scared of what the different “me’s” inside my mind were but I didn’t want to tell my dad about it. I was afraid of people being afraid of me. I was afraid I’d sound psychotic. I didn’t want to be what I was, losing time and feeling triggers constantly and the pain I was suffering from it, the friends I was losing because of the changes in me. The struggles I had, just to get to work (after I had to sign out of school for not showing up any more) and handle everyday life.

Now, though, I want people to understand my confusing and contradictory actions. I want to connect us all inside and being accepted by society will help this along. Part of me struggles with this idea. Part of me wants to believe that we can just go on living this way and keep us all just as we are. We love each part of us, except still working on accepting a few negative qualities. We’re used to this life, and parts feel there is nothing wrong with feeling this way. I, however, don’t see that as an efficient way to live. Especially when we all are perfectly capable of being one.

The first step to becoming one is accepting all parts of me. Also, letting those parts express themselves. Once those parts express themselves, and no one reacts with shock but with love or indifference, then it seems unnecessary to separate ourselves when we know all parts are capable of being accepted – inside and out. So, now I do something very out of character. I used to be very cryptic and careful who I told about my disorder, but now…I tell everyone. Strangers, co workers, customers if mental health comes up in conversation. All my family now, when it was originally only a few. No need to hide, means no need to feel something should be separate.

Why would I do that? Am I just another faker who is trying to make a dramatic scene for attention? Or a manipulator trying to use it to get away with what they want? Oh, no, my friend. I wish it weren’t true, that the majority of me is rather boring. Even though time and again people tell me it is “interesting” that I have these alter states of consciousness. Okay, they are not absolutely boring, because they are me and I’m an interesting person, so they can seem cool. But it’s not because they are alters. Parts of me can be just as cool as any other person you can meet. Parts of me can also be as annoying or disliked as any person you can meet too! It has nothing to do with having DID. Everyone is a different person in different situations, I always repeat. We aren’t that different except in our ability to connect.

I tell you I have some extreme sides, but they only are seen in equally extreme circumstances. In general though, it seems suspicious when all of someone’s alters are some fantastic extreme with an amazing back story. Most of us who truly have DID, I’ve come to find, are simply using this to live our lives, after surviving something traumatic. Also, I don’t really have access and control over those parts and people sometimes want to try to “bring them out” of me. They don’t do parlor tricks. They are not a circus act. I have serious suspicion, and think you should too, to one who seems to be able to “change at will” or on a whim.

I hope you have followed a long. When you have these alter states of consciousness you are both aware and not aware of what it is. It also exists to help you live your life as normal as possible as much as it can cause some drama in it. Coming to find out that many alters can affect you internally and never be the fronting voice, it explains a lot about me and these strange sensations I have experienced. These sensations I now understand to be characteristics of dissociation. When alters only affect you internally, it can appear as a switch but may just be you feeling emotions from others and it affects you. Don’t assume your intrusive thoughts are signs of internal alters and DID, though! Remember, still you need an experienced professional to be sure this is not something else, like a schizophrenic delusion for example. I truly fear that people who likely have another diagnosis, who try to make DID fit for them in their cookie cutter reality, hurt themselves and us who actually have DID. We need consistency and those of us with DID diagnosed should be suspicious of someone trying to “interrogate” or “interview” you almost, with what your DID is like. This is how the troll gets the script for their role. They see and copy true life accounts. I can’t stop them from reading along with my blog (hell,maybe I prefer they do, as maybe I can talk sense into them about the negative affects to both of us). I can though not let myself “offer advice” or explanations on if they sound “dissociative” enough.

I thought maybe I was delusional. Schizo-something or psychotic or delusional.  I think this is the first thought of those of us who actually have DID. It is my belief, from my experience and others I’ve met diagnosed too, that it takes a while to come to terms with it. Takes a while to get courage and seek out information and help for it. I don’t think we are usually trying to push for it’s acceptance and be known by EVERYBODY. I feel we only care about the opinion of our doctors and only push them so hard to accept it so we can finally get the right help. Those with DID want help with organizing their fractal lives.

Like I said, I thought I was “schizo-something” right? I found out differently when I was hospitalized for the first time. With my discharge papers, I left with many prescriptions to control my supposed symptoms and information about my diagnosis. On the list was a new word I’d never heard: Dissociative Disorder – Not Otherwise Specified. What was this? I only read a small amount but as I began studying more into my post traumatic stress disorder, I found my way back to dissociation. I found my way to Complex PTSD and dissociative identity disorder. I was a part that knew I really had this, while other parts struggled to accept it and thought they were just crazy. Mostly because abusive people had drilled that thought into us. Yet, I was not delusional. I could tell the thoughts I had didn’t match with my reality. I wasn’t psychotic, I was stuck in trauma time. So, I wasn’t pretending, I was forgetting. Each part that presented, had me with a different set of experiences and memories, so I reacted as if those were the only true reality. That’s what it means, to dissociate your identity. You cannot handle it all at once. So, this separation occurs so you can survive. Until one day you hopefully can be strong enough to face trauma of  your past.

I had known about stories of “multiple personalities” from movies and such. I used to say in my head as a teenager, that’s what I was, but then I would say I wasn’t. Hard to explain. I wanted to be normal but it was me pretending I was “just pretending” I have Multiple Personality disorder to deal with the fact that I had alters for real. Now at age 34, I am recovering memories and becoming more co-conscious. I now can see, feel, remember incidents of dissociation in my life, from childhood to yesterday. I at times have felt like I was several different people at once since getting better with co-consciousness. I started seeing obvious signs they existed more than ever, so I had to sort of mourn the loss of a fantasy that maybe I could be “just pretending.”

This is how it feels, living with DID. Not all fun and games. It’s all stress, confusion and headaches. Just trying to get a grip on yourself, and then somehow at times it all falls into place and works out okay in the end. Just like any normal person’s life really. I just cannot stand these people in forums talking all about EVERY alter as if it’s so extreme all the time. With self harm and baby talking as “little’s” and how one is untrustworthy and another promiscuous. Not like these are not ever parts of it, but this is like these are the ONLY parts of it and as if what DID is about is just shocking things. A lot of emo “woe is me, look at me” of people feeding off of attention. I know I am not the authority on all experiences, and there can be some who maybe are this bad but I feel how can I take them seriously with so many extreme fakers? It’s so unfair how fakers cause confusion like this with their shock value to the extreme.

Oh, speaking of extreme, I accept animal and fictional alters but on the pretense that a human child’s fantasy is frozen in your mind, and is playing out to an extreme to escape a harsh reality. I just cannot get those who want to say that all alters are individuals and this would include things non human that you cannot possibly be in any physical scientific sense of the word. To me this is a delusion and though I won’t try to convince that alter themselves of it, I will not allow other parts to encourage the action of letting my cat be a cat and that everyone should accept that cat as a “real” cat in my everyday life in public. That’s too far. That doesn’t help anyone to focus on letting each part live separately, because you need to function on one path as one body.

Let me say: You may not achieve that and THAT’S OKAY. You are not a terrible being because you don’t integrate. I’m just saying, I feel it’s not beneficial to not TRY to, because each identity cannot be present at all times unless you connect them all together. If all of you are not present all the time, then parts of you are only living part of their life. If all of you ARE ALL PRESENT ALL THE TIME, then you have no need for separate identities, and naturally co-consciousness I feel should roll over into integration.

I see the reality of sometimes some of them being hard to distinguish individually during a switch, because I live with people being upset at me for doing things I don’t remember or not remembering things I was supposed to do. Other people don’t seem to know this is possible. I want the world to know there are parts just as boring and normal as anybody else whose brain is a single consciousness. I want the world to also know, that although parts are boring people, they are quite interesting when put into the extreme cases they get put in, just like any other normal person can be.

My stories are not all drama and excitement, or just so fun and cool. Many of my stories are sad, violent, disgusting, and fearful. If they are not just mundane. Although, I have some that can be quite funny, though much is a borderline dark humor. So maybe it is entertaining on some level. My stories are not really aggressive and dangerous to anyone else but me. So there is not exciting fear to give shock value.

This is DID. Just a boring person, changing to another boring identity, just trying to live a boring life, until an extraordinary event brings out the best and worst of your capabilities, that you possess in whole. I’m here to expose the fakers with the reality of my sad story and how difficult this is for me to put all this stuff out there. Even the embarrassing and vulgar. I mean, without examples, how will anyone understand? I’m willing to suffer this becaues, well, I have been suffering in silence all these years. My only consolation is that this will start a revolution and help others in the future.

Alters appearing in childhood.

I am slowly recovering memories. With many of my alters being very similar to me or each other, with only a few significant differences, I am having trouble discerning which identity and set of memories I became in these incidents of my childhood. I am writing out what little information I have collected internally, as I piece it together. This is an example of obvious unusual behavior, that were signs of alters during my childhood that could have been noticed if known possible. I hope by sharing this, I can help parents who have children who are recovering from trauma, especially sexual assault, know to look for similar extreme cases in behavior and memory. If seen, then to be able to consider possible dissociation, even the farthest end of the spectrum, D.I.D.

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++I remember, I was 8 and this was during therapy after I had told of my sexual abuse and my the family member sent away. I don’t understand what little I remember from therapy. I don’t know what the point of this exercise was, but in this group therapy, everyone was asked to write a short story telling of an example of a child being sexually abused by someone. I remember here I was triggered, and then I wasn’t me. This is the first memory I have gained of my only male alter. I hear the thoughts of Bel in my mind (that’s just one “L” not two, this a boy name I later learned in my research). He says he wants to tell a good story, one they need to remember. The story that was written was about a little boy who was abused by his teenaged cousin who was a girl. I feel this role reversal in my story should have been an important thing to take note of. However, everyone in group passed their pages to the therapist leading the group. Then the papers were mixed and we all got a piece of paper from a story that was someone else’s. Next, we all take turns reading the page we have, and this sort of made a whole new story. So, I guess there was no exact way to be able to focus on this, but writing a story with this gender role reversal I think is an important thing to take note of. On top of this was times I was repulsed by pretty or feminine things/clothes/toys, and I know at one point I insisted I was a boy like my brothers. I don’t think my parents remember. But they do say sometimes that I was a “tomboy.” I vaguely remember saying to my mom I’m a boy and she said, “no, you’re a tomboy.” I vividly remember many times my mom said “Act like a lady” and Bel would be the one speaking and exclaiming “i’m NOT a lady!” To say I was definitely a tomboy wasn’t entirely true if they remember the times I wasnt. On top of this total disdain for “girly” things, a part of me lived an extremely outgoing giggly girly part of myself that contradicted all that. This side, in turn, is unhappy being anything BUT girly and cute, make up and hair done, all the time. In reality, I was never the cute popular girl. I was the stringy haired girl with glasses and no friends. Except, I did get to hang out with the boys as my boy alter sometimes. Boys are easier to play with because they just are running and screaming, it’s not a “song and dance” like the girls. As Bel, I could play the kickball or tag or climb around an adventure with the boys on the jungle gym. Not that unusual, but when you see me act frightened of the boys on another day, and just hide by myself on the swingset or under a tree instead of interacting with others, you have to take note of these subtle yet obvious differences. These are things I think are worthy to take note of, though not exactly blatantly noticeable. You’d have to be paying close attention for such contradictory differences from day to day.

+++My brother just a few years older was babysitting us for a short while. It was late at night in the late spring early summer  I believe, because I remember it was chilly at night but warm during the day. Scared of my physically violent brother trying to suffocate me again, I switched off my conscious host and I remember someone said,”Get out of the house and then everyone will see it and save you,” That someone, I believe was a younger alter, Eloise. She  ran my body out of the house. Unsure of my exact age, I think I was between 10 and 12 years old. Only running halfway down the street, I stopped at an alley to look behind when realized my stopped chasing me. He stood there on the porch watching me. Afraid he was coming to get me, I remember feeling outside of my body like watching a movie. June said in my mind,”So they think we won’t leave. They think we need them. We’ll show them. Then, when I return, brother is going to be in so much trouble with Mom and Dad.” We walked around the block. Then, something else happened. We thought that just standing around waiting wasn’t enough. They think we won’t go far. What if they come looking too? To stay close and be found  isn’t safe either. Completely convinced we could live outside like a survivalist, and that the forces of good would protect us from harm, it was Justice who began walking. I remember this now, but at the time, this wasn’t me. It still doesn’t yet feel like me. We walked around the neighborhood farther than anyone ever knew. I told them I was at a park near by but I actually walked past that one to one much much further away and bigger. If it wasn’t for the fact of the cold weather, the one in control would have stayed gone all night. That was the plan. I have memories where I tried to sleep in a clubhouse with a slide, at the park. I think it was Morrighan who realized this is not achieving anything and brought us back home. It was after midnight probably around the time we decided to walk back home. I made it back home probable around 2 AM. The police were there. My dad was outside and saw me walking. He met me down the street and he walked me inside. As soon as I saw my dad, I know I became one of the younger ones of me, Emerald. My mom was in a rocking chair with a crocheted blanket and I climbed underneath the blanket. The police wanted to ask me what happened. I couldn’t speak. They asked me if I wanted to talk. I just shook my head. I didn’t really remember what happened to tell them. I didn’t really know who I was. I just knew my mom and dad and my house. That was it. So, this leads me to believe I was Sapphire, who I believe is the youngest of my alters lacking ability to really speak or read and write. Or, at least refuses to respond if she can.

++++I think I was in 5th or 6th grade at the time that this happens. I don’t know what the cause of the problem was. I know that I had this running conflict all year long with a certain boy in my class. I also had no friends during this time of my life, being the awkward girl with glasses, always picked on and made fun of. I just remember, we were in gym class. The teacher had stepped out. I don’t even remember what was said to me, but it seemed like a physical threat from this boy. Maybe it was something along the lines of “shut up or I’ll smack you” or something, I don’t know. However, I was trigger. I remember me saying these words, but it was Bel speaking,”I have three older brothers I fight all the time you think I’m scared of you? Come on!” I see my hands in fists in front of me. Everyone was shocked in silence. Must like children do when in an uncomfortable and nervous situation, the boys just start laughing then everyone laughs. Then I don’t know why everyone is laughing. I just then remember it was the end of class and we were lined up walking back to our classroom from the gymnasium.

+++++In 8th grade I did something that only a few people knew. A part of me was tired of being nerdy girl in the class. This part wanted to shock and amaze. Another alter was trying to be different. Except, this alter was not the cool, sexy, trendy teen alter I have. This was just the most intelligent, shy alter, who also has extreme anxiety that makes her explode into a bratty melodramatic teen. She tried to pretend she could do an adult relationship and show everyone that she was something different. That she was more intelligent and mature and they were babies. Book smart, she lacks street smarts. This is June. June feels like she must be responsible for everyone because she feels no one ever protected us. She feels not even the adults understand enough to know what to do, even if they were willing to do something. She feels adults are unreliable. Here she goes, trying to have a boyfriend. She has no sexual attraction to him, just interested in the fact that he was a different race, so that was the first shock value. Then, unbeknownst to me for decades, just because he asked her to be her boyfriend, she thought she was supposed to sexually satisfy him. Since she didn’t want to have sex, she thought she was more in control by agreeing to do oral sex. This went on for about two months, but only on the weekends and maybe a few extra weekdays during the summer. Before the next school started again when we’d be in highschool, she ended it though. There was some sort of lack of self worth that led her to believe this is what she was supposed to do since she was never to feel love or trust anyone. She just wanted to be normal, but better as more intelligent and mature than kids her age. She instead gets a lot of bad decisions and extreme emotional outbursts as a way of dealing with it. She punishes herself like she deserves it. She protects herself by pushing others away, making others angry, or by not talking at all. Much of what June does, I don’t remember. I was 14 when she gave that boy oral, and I didn’t get the memory back until just recently at 34. Nobody knew to bring it back up, because as soon as I left 8th grade and went to highschool, that girl was no longer my friend. And I did not go to catholic high school from the grade school like most of my classmates who heard about it. So no one I knew, knew about it.

++++++In high school, I remember I was overwhelmed. Going from a small private catholic school of less than 200 students (my 8th grade class just 14 students or something like that) I was now in a school of more than 2,000 students. Dissociation was probably the worst here. I was generally a “good kid.” Not a trouble maker. I began cutting school though. I began changing how I dressed. I got more into the “goth” scene with my gothic clique of friends. They all did the smoking and drinking, I didn’t do those. So I was still a “good kid” in that respect. I just couldn’t handle school. This is when social anxiety and agoraphobia seemed to be in full swing. This is when my loss of time is the worst. I was living a life that no one really knew was going on during my teen years. The places I went, the things I did, the way I explored. Nobody knew. Ha, not even me. I’m going to have to make a separate place to go into my alters during high school. I just wanted to mention here the one incident where I couldn’t keep up in my English class, because dissociation and I couldn’t seem to write fast at all. I remember running away when I was supposed to go with my Dad to do research for my English paper. This paper was my final. I believe the fear of publicly talking to some one was the trigger some how. I just left the house, tried to find my boyfriend at the time but he wasn’t home. So I dissociated, wandered aimlessly until I decided that life was too hard and scary and we wanted to die. I walked to a river with a bridge. I meant to go jump off the bridge. Somehow I fainted, by the side of the bank as I was walking right next to the river, before I reached the bridge. I woke up on in dirt by the sound of my boyfriend calling my name. I couldn’t explain how I got there. Apparently I had written a long suicidal note to my boyfriend to say where I was going. He had gotten ahold of my best friend who drove a car. She drove him down there and was helping look. My parents knew I was “missing” because my boyfriend came looking for me. I was grounded but they never knew, I went to that bridge to kill myself. I just said I was walking around and I couldn’t really give any answer for what had happened during that time.

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I wish I had more memories than this. I hope to clarify this all through therapy over time.  But I just find these ones stick out, that outsiders should see something wasn’t right, and the issue I had with memory was definitely known. If parents knew that dissociation and D.I.D. were a possibility for children who have undergone repeated abuse, especially rape, then they’d take more care in paying attention for changes in conscious awareness in their children. I just think, there has to be a way to inform parents of this possibility. I think it should be the responsibility of a therapist to explain D.I.D. as a possibility to have occurred. Also, help them to be aware it can take years to really noticeably present itself, so they should stay dilligently aware, all through childhood and well into adulthood even. If parents are there with compassion as soon as it’s an obvious D.I.D. case, then the healing will be much easier on the child. If parents are ignorant, uninformed, impatient, and judgemental, that will further implant the dissociative identities in existence and make it harder to integrate with this emotional stress, and dare I say abuse.