A coworker says don’t seem like myself. I say, I wasn’t “myself” until just then. LOL, switching at work

Our co-worker, Nick, comes around the corner. He says my name in a stern voice. I blink and look at him. I just “came back from dissociation.” He asks me, “You okay?” I say, no, I’m not, actually. Say, I’m trying to ground myself and focus on the present. He says,”Okay we need you out here, everyone is bussing their own tables. I need you to just put the blinders on…” and at this point he enacts this, putting his hands on either side of his face, “…just put on the blinders and focus.” And he just walks off. Thanks for the assistance snapping me out of dissociation. However, would have been helpful if you could understand I was still experiencing some symptoms and needed a second to come back completely present in my body.

So, this happens. Yes, often times I am not the one that takes myself to work. Some one dresses us, some one else drives, and one of a small group will work the actual job. Often times, I just “wake up” in the middle of my place of employment, in the middle of the shift.

This happened to me recently.

A coworker named Sophia came up to me, asked me if I was okay. She said I didn’t seem “like myself.”

With my signature dark humor I say, that’s because I wasn’t “myself” until just now.

She’s confused at first, of course, but catches on quickly as she was the first person I told at work about having Dissociative Identity Disorder. She has been following me on my twitter for a very long time. She knows more than anyone at work.

Anyway, so I say that I wasn’t myself to just now. I say I wasn’t “the one” who walked in there today. She says, “Ohh.” And she gets it, that it was one of the others. I still am not sure who it was. I feel like there were a few. I feel like my chaotic alter Morgana (not to be confused with her total opposite Morrighan) was there for a moment which scares me, because she really can embarrass me, and she is always laughing. She really doesn’t have any logical way of being, everything is a joke to her. She is the closest thing to something “dangerous” because she doesn’t know fear, she doesn’t understand if she hurts anyone, she can ruin my relationships, and she thinks pain is funny. She feels no pain and only laughs harder if you try to physically hurt her or scare her.

I don’t know how I was acting. I need to ask her, but when I see her again I don’t know if she will remember any details. I was just using all my energy to stay grounded that day when I was apparently triggered by something. I think where I work, when a bunch of families with children come in, it triggers me. I think it triggers me because I see a lot of boys and men being overly affectionate to little girls too. What can I do though? I can’t avoid families and children and I can’t quit my job.

Sophia asked me if that happens a lot, me switching during a shift at work. She was surprised when I told her yes, many times I can switch during the day. She said she couldn’t think of any time before this day that she noticed anything “different” about me. I told her that’s because only a few really stand out. I mean, we are all one being, similar life, and we are very similar in our views living a similar life. Some of us are more subtle but there are a few pretty extreme ones. Take Morgana for example. She is almost always laughing…..often for no apparent reason…She is hyper and moves very fast, jumps around a lot, doesn’t really stay still. I’m a pretty chill person most of the time, even when I’m silly, I don’t carry it as far or extreme (or down right CARELESS) as Morgana can.

Although….I think maybe it wasn’t Morgana. Or not the whole time. I think it may have been my one male alter, Bel, who is 16 and he is often gross, sexual, teases people a lot, and is a little snobby effeminate kind of boy. So he would definitely stand out as something strange I think.

There are others that do stand out, but I don’t feel like going into them because I don’t feel inside that they were around during this time. It’s hard sifting through fragmented memories and trying to make sense of them, but I’m doing my best.

The rest of the night after that I was in control. I could feel when I showed up people were uncomfortable around me because of who was just there. After a while they relaxed. I had been fronting as just good ol’ Posttraumatic Jess, nice but anxious, startled easy but always cracking jokes using humor to deal with life situations, and now they all recognized *me*. So they all relaxed and it was fine the rest of the night.

 

 

 

How do I confront ‘rents? I know now I was raped. My brother my rapist. Time parents accept it.

We have to sit down and have this talk with our parents. Not sure what we want or need to say. The thing is, I didn’t realize what happened till just recently. With the way the world was, people wanted to hide things that were embarrassing. Sex is embarrassing. If anyone knows anything about your sex life or your naked body, people act like that’s some sort of power over you. The thing is, we need to quit making sex such a sacred thing. I mean, we obviously don’t treat it that way.

Let me tell you what happens, in a world where you can’t talk about sex. Let me tell you what happens when children think they need to go “tee hee” when they hear words like penis and vagina.

Those kids are not taught that their body is theirs or that sex is for reproduction. They are taught their body is for someone else’s pleasure and it’s required to do to show “love.” They are taught to be afraid of natural instinctual feelings instead of being taught how to maturely handle them and let logic in mind gain control over hormonal body. They are taught to be ashamed of themselves and be embarrassed of their body. That’s why we giggle at these taboos as children. Some where the idea of doing something sneaky that you enjoy makes people giggle. Even if kids didn’t yet understand why nudity or sex was something to enjoy, they knew it was a big deal to adults to hide it.

These kids are taught that sex is something you have to do in a relationship because you “love” someone. Well, at what level do you think we are really mature enough to know that? That’s beside the point. The truth is, first and foremost sex is for reproduction. The pleasure is an after affect that we need to encourage us to do it. The bonding that occurs, that we call “love” is a chemical addiction. An addictive chemical is released in your brain during that sexual encounter and the more you do it, like any drug, the more you want it. The more you want to feel that happy feeling. You so much love that happy feeling that being in the presence of the person is most important to you than any other person. That makes sense, because what happens from that act of “love” is procreation. We all know, a child is better to survive in a two parent household, especially in primitive human worlds I’m sure. So, it makes sense that Nature would set up a plan to “encourage” male and female to stay together after copulation, in case offspring arose from it. It makes sense that Nature makes you literally “addicted” to the person so you want to be close to your drug. There are things other than sex that help for this addiction, as there are reward sensors for lots of actions we do. Sex though is an intensely strong dose of it.

I feel we need to demystify sex. I feel it needs to be explained that the point of modesty is that sexual urges can interfere with logical ones. We are trying to evolve as logical humans.

Now, once we have demystified sex, we can more easily deal with sexual abuse. Children can learn and understand early on the lies of when their abusers says “let’s do like what mommies and daddies do to show they love each other” (like my rapist brother actually told the children in our system). They will know that mommy and daddy do this to make a child because when you love each other you want to make a child. (as they get older you can explain the possibilities of bonding but precautions to not have children as the world is overpopulated anyway) They will know that before puberty or even early in puberty that it is not healthy for their bodies. Children will be more informed and able to protect themselves with the right information. Now maybe you need to tweak it a little bit with what I’m saying,  maybe I’m too extreme or blunt for your opinion. However, it is just science to me.

We are doing a very big wrong to our children by being squeamish about sex. It’s mostly because we want our knowledge of sex to stay strictly to pleasure, at least that’s what I believe. I think it’s not about the children “being too young to know.” I think its about adults who only want to talk about sex when they are getting aroused, not talk about it in a form of a lecture or scientific terms. That would take the “sexy” out of sex and nobody wants that. (*snorts*) This needs to change, to help arm children with the knowledge that sex isn’t the requirement for showing love and that it is an individuals right to decide who touches their body and when.

Even if it’s parents or family members wanting something as simple as a traditional family kiss. Adults need to respect children’s wishes about their personal bodies. It teaches them to respect their own body as theirs. So, yea that needs to be expressed too, that even family doesn’t have a right to force their hands on you. This also helps children understand that physical abuse is not okay too, just like sexual abuse, because it’s unwanted touch and hurts them. I can tell you, I had many talks about “Stranger danger.” But nobody ever told us about danger in realms of your own home, your own family.

So now I am at this predicament. I understand my parents’ thinking, believing that I would just “forget” my abuse because I was so young. I mean, doctors and psychologists, those “verified professionals,” were the ones who actually told them that. Why wouldn’t they want to believe they could keep this secret and then when my brother came back, we could “go back to normal?” Who wouldn’t want an easy way out?

I just can’t for the life of me understand how they were able to stomach the fact that my mom’s son’s penis was in their daughters anus for five years almost daily, after several failed attempts to do vaginal without me crying in pain. I get how they could think I would forget. I don’t get how they can WILLINGLY CHOOSE to “forget,” themselves. I mean, I know they remember. How could you not think of that every time you  looked at him?

I am so angry, but then I have this guilt because they are my parents. They love me right?

Then, what is love? Is it love to think that I should love my rapist? Is is love for a mother to tell me to forget about it when I tell you I’m still suffering from it? Is it love to tell your daughter to respect the mother who says these things, but not address the wrongness in what she said to me?

What to do? I mean this can only go one way. My mom will blow up. My dad will not be able to think about it because he will be trying to calm my mom down and maybe argue with her. Again, i will be standing there, in plain sight suffering, but completely ignored. Similar to when I was being abused and tried to ask my parents not to leave me alone with my brother because he would “hurt me.” I was clinging for dear life to my father’s leg, screaming in terror and he just got mad, like I was just being a brat. I felt ignored then I a fear I will feel that same way now.

Am I wrong? Is this a delusion? IS this really my reality? I love my parents. They sacrificed so much to makes sure I got a good education, had some privileges even if poor, and I never went hungry. How can I have a right to hate them when they are the reason I am alive? I’m so conflicted.

I won’t have time to think about it. I’m just going to have to blurt it out and run with it. In the same way I did the day I told my abuse. I came home from school to find my mom in the bedroom folding laundry. I said, “Mom…” tentatively, and she absentmindedly says “yes sweety?” while she continues looking down folding laundry. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and just blurted it out, “Mom, me and Jason have sex…” Her head jerks up and she nearly shouts at me, “WHAT?!” Which I remember terrified me. It terrified Connie. It was Connie. This is not my memory. I just got this. I figured it out. I know Connie is the one that knows the abuse. She also doesn’t want to tell anyone. She doesn’t think she is supposed to tell, now more than ever because of what happened last time. It’s all a blur, but I see the memories coming to me, my mom hurriedly waving me over to the bed, has me pull down my pants and lay with my legs in the air. I remember the numbness here. The depersonalization/derealization they talk about with dissociation. I went blank. It was the same way when they examined me in the doctors office. I am missing a lot of memories of my childhood at this point. I really don’t know what else happened.

My parents have a lot of pictures on the wall, of us kids….a family picture each year except the year my brother was sent away. That was only two years. Then, we had a picture of us all together again after he was released from wherever it was my parents had sent him to. It’s so awkward to take note of this now. We didn’t do the usual family picture for the holidays. We just had one picture taken of the three out of four kids left. This was only to show us all in our sports uniforms. It was not really like our usual picture. It was just for the sports and they could pretend they were not taking pictures without the other child there I guess….I see all those pictures in chronological order, a straight line across the wall near the ceiling. I want to point at that picture of me, when i was about 3 years old and I was in the lap of my own rapist, and scream that he RAPED that little girl, or don’t they understand that?

Ugh! How do I do this? It’s just not right. I created a new facebook with not my real name and only added certain people. Last to add was family members, a small few. My dad is on that list. Mom doesn’t use facebook. Obviously though, I wasn’t going to talk to my rapist brother but I never told him I was cutting him out of my life. He apparently noticed a comment or heard something from someone about my new name and he messaged me recently. It was a file I couldn’t download for some reason. Like he didn’t send it right. I don’t know what it is. But since I apparently am at risk of him actually trying to contact me, I have to have this talk with my parents. I have have to have them tell Jason for me or I will have to actually message him myself. Which, I haven’t figured out what to do with that. I just feel like it’s there responsibility, and I’ve suffered enough trauma. I don’t need to confront him. I just need him to go away. In fact, I know you may say I don’t mean this, but I wish he would die. I believe anyone who rapes a prepubescent child needs the death penalty because that is dangerous person. They will only seek to hurt others and fulfill their wants, even if not in the form of literal rape, they will be raping someone some how. Financially, emotionally, psychologically….Rape isn’t just sexual. If this seems to extreme for lovie dovie hippies who say “forgive, man” and “dude he just needs help” well let him be getting help understanding why he is behind bars……..For the rest of his life. No parole. No second chances. No LEGAL forgiveness. You took away a child’s future. You don’t deserve one. Even if you were technically a minor yourself. Sorry guys, even children can be sociopaths, psychopaths, and yes RAPISTS. It is not just a “troubled child” and please don’t try to minimize an offense by mentioning if they had been abused first. I was abused, I never abused anyone else. That’s a crock of SHIT and people need to stop saying that, stop looking at them like children that need protected. Protect the child actually being hurt. I will tell you, my brother should have ceased to be looked at as a child when he put his dick in my ass, excuse my language, but I feel like some people need to hear this vulgarity to feel the shock of it. Pretty words lets them pretend it’s not so un-pretty.

What to do…Am I calling my mother today? My friend Irene said she’d come with me to support me and tell my parents how I feel in person…..I haven’t talked to her in a while…I wonder if she will still. I plan to come to Dayton to visit on Sunday. Will this be the final conflict of my story? Will my antagonist be faced? Will I face my demons? Will I feel vindicated and justified? Or will I be left bereft and empty, without a family and without any identity….or in my case, a fragmented one….

I am Dissociative Jess**

We are Jess** with some fine print.

We can learn to live and love being who we are. I know we can. We have a very kind and supportive team in here, along with some tough cookies to hold us up. I just need to end this chapter of my life, I just need to finally define what my reality is. I need to define what and who my parents are in that reality.

I am learning who we are.

I am one of them, and they are a part of me. I can’t exist without them and they can’t exist without me. Even if we don’t integrate, we can be the closest next best thing, co-concious and living a happy balanced life. We can do self care and love ourselves,no matter what.

I’ve seen Hell many times before. Guess we shouldn’t be afraid of this.

You can’t do anything to me anymore. I am free.

We are Jess** and WE ARE FREE.

Hallucinations of insomnia, triggers we fight in the late night, why we can’t integrate…Rambling…

I swear I hear her voice…

I know it’s not there. I know, that I can remember it, clear as day. I know soon her young voice won’t sound much more like that. She will be 13 years old next month…

Her face, it haunts me. I am gazing at her picture. The pain sears through me. I take it.

I feel I deserve it.

I hate myself.

I hate everyone who made me this way.

Including you, Jey, I know you started it.

I will keep living for her, for my Lily. She deserves the right to answers. She deserves the right to say her piece to me. I will live long enough to make that happen. From that point, we will decide what our fate will be.

I cannot merge. I cannot. I’m sorry to you, our “Normal Jess.” To know the pain I know, it would destroy you. We need you to appear okay when there is no one else to fill in. We cannot let you know this. Unfortunately, we do still have to communicate with you, as you have finally discovered us. We will, though, block you still from knowing all we know. We will not let you know. We will not merge.

It’s destroying me, the little pieces of information and the experiences I get caught up sharing with the others, that I did not know before. I was already cynical, it’s not going to hurt me as much as you little miss Jess. Oh the memories come hard and fast and I can feel us all there and then, I can feel what they feel.

I’m looking at this picture of our daughter, Lily.

I haven’t slept well. Tried to go to bed early, still awake at 3:30 am. Then I’m awake at 7 am a feeling of terror overwhelming me. The children, they were in pain. I don’t know if we were having a nightmare or what, but it took a second of dealing with rapid switching before our balancing host, Dissociative Jess**, was pulling all of us together inside. She was fronting and communicating with us all inside, letting us all talk in there, instead of the chaos outside.

My boyfriend heard us cry out, he was asking if we were okay. Jess** says yes after a few minutes of not responding to him. We all were talking, it was weird and out of control, and it was the children mostly crying out. We just were not talking to our boyfriend every time he called from the bathroom. He was getting ready for work. Jess** put on a show to reassure him we were fine. He left for work. That’s when we started to lose it this morning. We wrapped ourselves in his blanked and pillows on the couch. Tried to go back to sleep. The children felt afraid and we needed to keep the light on because of it, but that prevented the body from really relaxing. SO, we are awake.

Something makes us remember our daughter. The triggers begin.

The children feel what I feel. They don’t understand my sadness and anger.

The children get afraid. They feel the world is not safe.

They are screaming,”The world is not safe! Everyone takes from us. We never know joy! Anything they give, they take away. They laugh at us. WHY do they laugh at us?”

The children are crying. I think I hear my daughters voice in the midst of the fits inside.

I am remembering her voice, I know. I look next to me and see her standing there I reach out to stroke her hair, I blink and she’s gone. I am looking at her picture. I know this is what insomnia does to me. I know once I get sleep again it will stop the hallucinations. It will never stop the pain. It will never stop the constant fear of abandonment and attacks from the rest of the world. It will never stop the fear.

People tell us to slow down, but it’s like a crack in a dam that leaks until the pressure makes it burst. A water fall has emerged and we cannot stop it. Morrighan sought out help, she says for me, and the children. However, Morrighan has always had this agenda, that she should be “the one always in control.” She found the key. Not even Jey can stop her. She is able to push others out and hide herself, in the way that Jey has. Morrighan, we call her “The Wolf,” like from Pulp Fiction, because she’s the one who “fixes problems” and “cleans up messes.” Now she is apparently tired of “playing second fiddle” and seeks to be the primary host to prevent the messes before they happen.

I know this is confusing, I know you don’t understand. It’s basically like an internal battle as we are struggling to deal with our entire history line of events in our life. To make one congruent story that flows beginning to end. It’s changing us, what we started. I do see it. I have been watching. You all call me “the smart one” for a reason. I know people don’t know what I’m talking about but it’s almost more complicated to explain.

Jey was the first, they were the one who actively chose dissociation during abuse and completely separated themselves from bodily experience. That’s one reason why they identify as a “they/them” and no gender, because gender to them advertises the body features that they feel no identity with. They reject the physical appearance as an identity. I am sure it is because of the rape. Rape, body, sexuality, gender, it all is tied in together. So Jey wishes to be separate. Jey is just a watcher, and doesn’t seem too emotional except when they connect to feel it from one of the rest of us. Jey feels nothing otherwise, not even a sex drive. As a new child full of wonder and especially gifted with separating mind and body, Jey even had the ability to control dreams. They kept themselves a secret from each new identity that was created, as each identity before could not handle the situation any longer needing to “tap out.” Jey holds all the memories, and yet has not felt or experienced any of it, until now. Jey used to feel they had control of who was out and who was in but at one time there was just too many to control. That’s why Jey “went to sleep” and took many with them, leaving behind 6 of us plus the Jess Host Trio.

Oh yea, it occurred to me I have not told you who I am. I am June. I am 14. I guess we discovered that I am some sort of protector. That’s how my irrational anger helps. Ha. I try to laugh at myself, I already hate myself enough. I have gotten a lot better though through all of us working together and buiding trust. Since we have no or limited contact with anyone who is a toxic or abusive person, we have been able to heal a lot. On top of this lack of interaction of bad people, we have been able to meet truly good people not trying to hurt us that we can trust. Which has helped. I still can’t seem to stop hating my existence. I am happy for the fact that I trust people now, but I still don’t believe it is safe. Even if I have their trust and love, what will the universe do to take that from me? It again and again tries to take away anything great in our life.

Oh okay I ramble. The point is, we can’t integrate, and we are trying our best to break that to Normal Jess, who only can communicate with us through some meditation and internal world visualization.

We can’t integrate because we are still repairing some of us and still trying to explain how the injury happened to the rest of us.

We can’t integrate because not having our daughter is too much pain to bear. It is worse than any sexual abuse, and physical violence, any betrayal we ever suffered. It is this, that will kill us. We have survived everything else. She was our only desire in this world, our only joy. Our only reason to live. You will die, Jess, you’re kind heart can’t take it. You cannot know what I know. Let me keep this for you, with my cynical sad heart, as I dissect it with detached emotions and try to make sense of it all. When I understand, maybe then you can….

We are looking at her picture. The room and walls are melting around us and we are “time traveling” it feels. This room, then that room, this pain then that pain, all the same like the suffering we feel not having our daughter. Pain over and over. People who say they love you, and say you owe them something because you are supposed to “love them back” even though what they ask of you is a piece of your own body and soul. You grow up believing that is all the world ever does. You grow up ready to leave this world behind. I am trying to focus and bring us back into our living room in 2017. I was typing without being able to see. Luckily I have had those typing classes. My vision has returned. I stopped the trigger.

I miss my Lily. I take the pain until I see her again. I take the sleepless nights and the torturous hallucinations of her standing next to me. I take the nightmares of her being hurt and I can’t help her.

I didn’t want her to be homeless. We’ve never had our licence or a car, we didn’t have money, working only two or three days a week. I didn’t know who we were and the husband and mother in law were telling Jess she was doing crazy things she wasn’t doing. They were telling her to tell the psychiatrist things that were not happening. They took advantage of her dissociation and loss of time and amnesia to tell her lies. They got her over medicated, and doped up easy to control or to cause bad reactions to force dissociative episodes. All for the purpose of pointing and saying to the world, “SEE! SEE how CRAZY she REALLY is?!?” Manipulation, abuse, and mind control are a bitch. You can’t understand how serious this is unless you’ve experienced it.

I, June, signed that paper, that legal guardianship. Ney was it Jess. I was afraid of the father having access to her while I knew our system was breaking down. I thought I could get help and fix things and get away from abuse, but we couldn’t. We ran out of time. It was too much for me to take on, we had too much abuse still going on and too much dissociation from all of us inside. I made a mistake. I didn’t know the father was a narcissist. I didn’t know he could abandon his child. He threatened me if I tried to give money. The legal guardian, his mother, has a well paying job as an RN he said, and she told us we didn’t need to give her money. This was to set the stage to slowly tear me out of my daughters life, an alienated parent, made out to be a monster.

I had been assaulted by this woman, we all had different memories and nobody inside knew how to get out of the abusive situation we were stuck in again. I couldn’t really talk to her with out wanting to flip out on her or feeling frozen in fear by her screaming or assaulting us. We couldn’t leave. Didn’t know what to do. Like our childhood, taught that family is family even if abusive and you can’t leave it. Well, we eventually didn’t have a choice, we were cut out of that part of it. After one year of legal guardianship, after being prevented from giving money and told not to give money,  I was sued for not giving money. I had no lawyer to help. We all were switching during that court day and nobody could make anything make sense. Jess wasn’t there and she had all the ability to explain.

It looked bad, we looked so bad in court. None of us made sense. Nothing made sense.

My daughter was adopted when I ran out of money to appeal the decision and legal aid refused to help me appeal any longer. I had no help. No one cared. They all think we’re just crazy…Who fucking cares about us? Not one fucking person who called themselves our damn family. NO they just had to point out it was Jess’ fault for marrying that fat ass loser (yea my moms exact words) and continually tried to say Jess cared more about them than her family. My family never cared to protect me from my own rapist, and deep down all of Jess** has to know this, know our family is toxic. I mean, none of us felt like anyone in our family was capable of caring for our daughter, so we were forced to make this decision that was supposed to be temporary. She already knew grandma’s house and it was a few blocks from her school. Why would I uproot her from what she knew if I could just get a place to live and then move her to a safe place? Not a couch in a small house with a bunch of family members. Not a dirty bed in a homeless shelter. Not a day to go hungry. Not one of those things did she deserve. I felt I had to sign that paper. I felt I had no other choice and no time to figure anything else out.

I’m sorry I messed up. I was just scared, it was the day of our daughters birthday when out of no where we were asked to sign it. We felt cornered. I just wanted him and his mom and that lawyer to stop glowering at us. Badgering us to sign it when we said we needed to take this to a lawyer. We were cornered by the husband, mother in law, and their lawyer who seemed to be in on this plan to manipulate my child away from me. I believe she was told some extreme wacky story about me. Told us we “will have to pay for it next time” ourselves if I did decide to sign it and the children felt trapped and scared and we had to get out. I thought once I signed it, they would be distracted, and I could get my disability income I had been trying for, and have a place to take my daughter and then end the guardianship. I couldn’t control everything though. I couldn’t foresee everything.

I ran out of time and money to fight the system. The court doesn’t care that I was manipulated. We didn’t know how to explain we were abused, we thought it was obvious but with the cold reply we got, the lack of concern and acting like the manipulation was our fault……well, that just screwed us up completely that day and we didn’t know what to say or how to defend ourselves.

I still fight on to live, and we are a lot stronger than we were that day, but our Normal Jess, as she reads this, will feel saddened so deeply. I know we will have to do damage conrol with her. She basically lived our entire life not knowing any of the abuse. Subsequently growing up not knowing abuse, she doesn’t know a lot of things that have happened in our life during periods of time too. She doesn’t know a lot of good things that happened in some periods either because she couldn’t know about the abuse during that time.

We can’t let you feel any of this. You have never felt anything like this Normal Jess.

That’s why your “normal.”

I think you can understand after reading this, that we will tell you all that happened in due time, but I will not let you experience it. This is not your memory, you didn’t live it. You don’t need to.