Please remember, each blog only represents who is writing it, and we all are very different. There are 15 different names of identities outside of 3 different “hosts” who go by “Jess” publicly (that’s 18 all together people) and each Jess will have different knowledge and memories. Sometimes we all don’t have all the information, and through our writing we are trying to learn.
Please do not react to this whole system over a feeling one of us made you feel. As we just try to express ourselves and learn how to interact, we want your help in doing so. We only ask that you get to know us and help all find common ground and end stigma. If we are upsetting you, please give us a chance to discuss possibilities of mending any harm before you cut us off.
We are only human. Yet… We never really had a chance to “learn how to be human.”
You know what I mean?
We grow and change and we make mistakes sometimes, mistakes that we learn from too.
Positive to balance out the negative.
*Let me tell you about why we are here writing…*
I am using this to piece together a skeleton of information for what will one day be a biographical story about childhood sexual abuse, the child victim and the adult survivor. I am not sure of what direction to take this yet. I’m just starting off, as I use my life for an example of real life Dissociative Identity Disorder (D.I.D.) to raise awareness. My goal is education and ending stigma, as well as healing myself. Though I know it’s not the path for all “multiples,” I am myself on a journey with the rest of the people in my system toward integration of us all. As close as we can get, who knows it may not fully happen.
I feel I need to type *TRIGGER WARNING* right here to cover my entire blog
I have no censor and I speak freely about my history, embarrassing, disgusting truth and all. I vent occasionally just to get it out of my system but I’m not always as upset as I sound, as it’s usually triggered by flashbacks that I gain control of eventually…..Read slowly and carefully, at your own risk, if you are prone to certain words about traumas causing triggers. I am warning you now that my intent is to discuss some difficult things and describe some difficult details. If you can’t read, you can’t. Self care is always important and we understand. I’m just trying share my story and it all is hard to take for anyone, whether they’ve suffered similar or had easier life. It seems to tug at the heart strings of even the strongest “tough guy” out there. So, now, I’ve explained how reading this blog will feel. I don’t need to write it for every blog. You’ve been warned.
I have Dissociative Identity Disorder and Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I am trying to piece my life together to heal trauma from my childhood sexual abuse and domestic violence, among other things gone wrong. I have missing information in my memories as each part knows different things. As I slowly recollect repressed memories and as I connect with all of the people in my dissociated system, I am discovering difficult truths. I am discovering abhorrent and shocking things about how the adults in my life reacted and still react to this day toward the rape that happened to me. I see their lack of understanding of the situation, lack of information, and lack of ability to even deal with it.
I am not here to trash my parents or family, I am only trying to help others know what my family had no way of knowing. I know there are some sad things I will have to share about my family, but please trust that I know that information lacking and their own pains also had something to do with their choices. It was strangely the way the world seemed to react to this, by just trying to bury it. Thinking the child who’s traumatized is young enough to forget.
It wasn’t just my parents, it was many other adults in my life from teachers to coaches to doctors to counselors to spiritual leaders. They just had no way of knowing what had actually happened to me or how bad I really was affected by it. They had no knowledge to go on. There is STILL not enough information to go on to this day. That needs to change. This needs to be taken seriously. D.I.D. is no joke, no game.
If I tell what I went through, then maybe people can know what to look for. People can help children before they become broken adults.
I lost everything that ever mattered because of my disorders and abuse, including being manipulated out of rights to my own child via legal guardianship that led to adoption. My own husband and mother-in-law were supposedly educated about mental health (mother-in-law a psych nurse even) but they still were ignorant on the subject of D.I.D. They made me out to be a monster, abused me so I didn’t know what way was up, and even feared I was a monster who deserved it. Made me afraid of myself so I signed legal guardianship trying to do the right thing as a mother: protect my child even if that meant to protect her from me.
I did my best to get help, I was fighting for my disability. I was homeless, nothing but a car and some clothes to my name. After losing my rights to my daughter forever after just one year of legal guardianship, I fought to survive the return of the worst dissociation I could have, the return of alters I had once fused, my number of selves now doubled.
Feeling like I’ve nothing worse to lose, feeling stronger having managed to find help and support to overcome so much, I am beginning to share my painful story to help other people. I know I will receive backlash for bringing this in the spotlight, but I want to be the voice for the children who don’t have a say in their own recovery.
I want to be what I wish I had as a child. Someone who says they matter more than the future of those who rape them of a normal life.
With all this, I am on a path of healing my D.I.D. and c-PTSD, as well as kept very much busy repairing some situations in my life as a result of my trauma (medical, financial, educational, legal, familial, etc). Showing the world who we are and getting acceptance without, will lead to acceptance within. I am learning to use the word “I” as ownership. I am learning to use the word “we” as acceptance.
This story of trauma is not even the worst, keep in mind. I speak also for those who don’t have the strength to.
Sometimes, I’m not the “Jess” you know of.
Sometimes, I’m not “Jess” at all.
Yet, I’m not really all that different from any of you. Except with memory and perception.
Welcome to Dissociative Identity Disorder.
This is host *Post Traumatic Jess.*
There is also JD**
As well as the third host, “Apparently Normal Jess”
Are you following along?
We all respond to Jess as our name.
Others respond to “Jess” but will correct you about their name if they have a chance.
The names of all the other alters besides the 3 hosts:
Jey (genderless they/them)
Suzy (age 18)
June (age 14)
Bill (age 16, the only male alter)
Emerald (twin, age indeterminable, child demeanor)
Sapphire (other twin, age indeterminable, doesn’t speak)
Eloise ( age 4)
Connie (age 8)
*Nonhuman* alters that helped with surviving trauma
(cat that distracts from reality as a human, may be alter pretending to be or believing they are a cat, can speak at times)
(She is a sprite (a fairy creature) mischievous and joyful and playful, high pitched childlike voice but adult knowledge)
(angel sent to protect, defend, and guide, has no age)