This is an odd ramble found written idk when, so sharing it. Why am I different? Why not?

I don’t know what makes me different. I have this skill I’ve had all my life. This ability to escape in my mind. This ability to “fly outside my body.” I knew what I was doing, I knew when I left and some blank person would be keeping the experience, not me. At a very young preschool age I could have “out of body” experiences where I could see myself and not experience any of it. I also used to try to control my dreams. I would wake up from nightmares and dissatisfied, I lay back down remembering the dream but changing the scenario to a better one. I felt I had an amazing control over my internal universe. I have built a very elaborate world. Then, I forgot it. Then, I remembered it. Then forgot some.

This is me weaving in and out of integrated states of being.

I also have been able to see other things in a scientific way, and try to not defer too much away from the standard of scientific understanding. I have been able to make even science a spiritual experience and see my connectivity to everything around me. I saw nothing in between, because atoms exist everywhere. I had this deep need to love and protect others. I had felt love and isolation. I can’t explain it, I just know, something made me feel separate from everyone even though I saw myself as part of the whole physical universe. It was like I couldn’t connect to their hearts and souls. It was like I was the last one heard. I used to have a dream of being left behind in a our locked car, while everyone walked down a grassy hill until out of my sight. They were all holding hands, skipping and singing, and did not hear my screaming from the car.

This leads me to wonder, where does this feeling of abandonment come from?

My one brother, closest to my age and not even a whole year apart, was the only one I felt connected with. We went our separate ways as we got older but we always have been there for each other, and he is the only one I feel a “family bond” with. The one thing the other familial relationships only have is an artificial Β bond made for survival, not a real bond. There are dark truths that are suppressed or repressed, or kept secret by the alters who know and experienced the bad truths. There is a reason I have most my family at a distance. They are toxic.

I still have this ability, without drugs or alcohol, to separate myself from my body, feeling like I’m outside my body to relieve the suffering. I have this ability in meditation to go deep inside too, far in my mind and work on repairing it. I just have some inner blockage now, making it more difficult. It feels like abilities I once have, were ripped from me.

My conclusion for that is some of the others withdrawing connections from me.

I’ve gotten them upset or afraid somehow.

I’ve gotten at least one trying to sabotage my life

I’ve got someone inside wanting to die.

This is so weird.

I am living as one person who is made up of many people. We are lost without much information to explain why we are the way we are. We are left with little support from community of others who claim our same diagnosis or similar situation, because we function strangely and support a unified life.

There are no answers to why we are different. Counselors expect us to be more fragmented and less concrete. They respond to us negatively when we talk of others inside, not understanding we want to be known for ourselves and not treated like our very real feelings don’t matter. The counselors are very primitive with their techniques and they don’t understand, we just are existing. We can’t “un exist.” We can’t. We can learn to live unified but not a uni-self. Nobody goes away. We have to just change some of our perceptions.

I’m going to figure this out.

I am Jey, by the way. The closest thing to an “original” or “core self” “first Jessica/Jessica Version 1.0 Beta”…. Or what ever. Ha. See I have accumulated a sense of humor the more I connect and interact with other parts and the body itself (which I often don’t connect with. more times just like living as a sort of “voice in my head.” )

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