Exposing Secrets, No longer in silent shame

This holiday I didn't sit across the table from my rapist. I didn't hold the hand of my accomplice mother or have to stare down my tortuous grandmother. My secrets are out in the open now.
Everyone needs a cause, something they are passionate and vocal about. Something that affects them deeply and they take a stand for or against.
Me, I'm against childhood sexual abuse and incest. I'm against families that agrees to live lies and hiding well known secrets. I'm against fathers who molest, give away and sell their children. Pretty simple and straightforward really, yet it's one of those unpleasant and ugly causes that makes people cringe.
Pedophile, child rape, child porn and prostitution, sex within the family, not pretty things to talk about. Itd be easier if my cause was better looking, animal abuses, government injustice, save the whales and so on. All worthy, nobel causes.
I put the value of one single child above all of them. I shoulder the fight that makes me expose my tender underbelly of shame, embarrassment and guilt not to beat my breast and say "poor me" but to expose the fact that what happened to me is currently happening to thousands of other small and helpless children.
I'm saying "look what happened to me because right now, in your community, within your own family or a family you know...This kind of sick sh*t is going on!" Look at what you don't want to see. See the epitome of cruelty and ugliness. Open your eyes to the fact that children are being horribly damaged and scarred for life along with your crusade to save the whales.
I'm not a closet case. I choose not to live under my family's sacred thumb. I choose to expose their lies and actually do what's right because living in silence only serves the perpetrators. Living clutching secrets is living a lie to yourself mostly. Nothing genuine about it. Its deprecating and unjust.
This is my cause. Incest happens. Families are sometimes best left. Running away can be healthy.
No longer living my family's lie and protecting child rapists.
Word

Processing a Memory, Flashback CPTSD

Surviving Childhood Sexual Abuse, the Emotional Aftermath

Today, out-of-nowhere, I remembered sitting alone in a darkened room. My father had just left after one of his incestuous encounters. I could hear my siblings playing outside. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, thinking "why me?"
Why me and not the happy, carefree children playing in the yard?
I felt sunk, cheated, like I was robbed and beaten. No one would ever know. No one would see my tears or know my suffering. Hell, I doubt anyone would believe me.
I was forced to turn my energy into encapsulating and shoving inside the memory of what had just happened. Before I stepped outside that closed door, I needed to temporarily forget. Forced to hide my pain. Turning and denying all that I was feeling. Coveting yet another aspect of myself.
It was sad; it is sad, to have something intense and tragic happen and be forced to swallow it into silence. Left alone. The depth of the aloneness of protecting secrets. I cannot measure..

Yeah. I'm in here...somewhere, behind the walls, amongst the shelves of stashed memories of events and all that I felt.
I felt, I feel, it happened. Deeply tragic.
I am such a closeted freak.

Having DID, you worry, you wonder

One of the side effects of having DID/ MPD is that you worry and wonder a lot. Having different alter personalities, blackouts and losing time means it is typically confusing. It's tough to keep track of things if you keep leaving reality and your body for broad lengths of time.
Currently, I am wondering or worrying about:
The 100$ check that was supposed to have arrived last week. Did the check make it into my hands? Did I cash it? If so, what did I buy? If not, can I accurately report that it is stolen or never arrived? Probably my biggest concern at the moment.
Wondering why all my clothes are way too big. I don't think I've lost weight. I think we've just been buying clothes way too big. Or, I'm a younger, smaller, thinner alter and the clothes simply feel too large.
Yeah, like, some days I wonder where my clothes went. Wheres my favorite shirt? My red shoes? Looking for things that don't exist in this time frame...frustrating. Not knowing if things are really missing or they were disposed of years ago or were worn out decades ago.
It's confusing. To a large degree, I've lived in a state of constant, high confusion that I've intentionally kept to myself for fear of ridicule. People laugh when you ask them what year it is, or for products, food items, that they stopped making years ago. Asking where a certain fast food place is, when the chain went out of business years ago, yeah, confused states and ridicule.
Seems to be more coconsciousness brings more confusion. It's just the name of the game I've been playing for awhile.