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.

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

  1. Hi Jess or “Normal Jess”, i’m the mother of a DID girl. Your blog came accross me while i was trying to find any helpfull information. I burst into tears while reading. if you allow, i want to share our own story and find some missing parts. it may sound selfish but i’m so desperate. Could you share your email address?
    Sorry for my English, i’m not native.

    Like

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