A MPD/ DID Therapist, Searching for a Therapist, Qualifications Needed

I want a therapist that is intruiged, educated, willing to learn. Someone who is willing to walk with me in the trenches of a senseless, painful, ongoing war. A comrade, a rock, a caring and compassionate soul that is willing and able to hear the stories, the battlecries and to see these wounds that I have kept hidden, buried deep inside.
Don't be a surface dweller, out of touch with inane rules that you keep you a foot above the fray. Don't walk on tiptoe and dance around disturbing issues. Don't adhere to the same rules and expectations that you insist upon other non-multiples for a Multiple is a rare treasure, a font of knowledge, a well of insight and a gaping wound of pain forever searching for a listening ear and a compassionate heart.
Being a DID/ MPD therapist is not for the meek, the novice or the coward.
If you wish to explore the depths of human suffering, the extremes of cruelty, the tenacity of spirit and the creativity of the human mind, seek a Multiple.
A Multiple is terrible beauty.
To gain the trust of someone so maligned is an honor and a privilege for the very few.
Walk with me. See me. Listen. Hear.

Sylvia the Movie review

Oh, what a dreadful waste of time and film, to waste upon the life of someone with writing so rich. To devote an hour and a half to a relationship instead of her inner workings, her journals and poems, such travesty.
As if her marriage was the pivotal factor in her imaginative, introspective life. A one woman show would have been more enjoyable and just. She was a person outside of her marriage. It's an indignation to memorialize her on film bound to someone else.

I've read her Unabridged Journals and found a woman acutely aware, sensitive and highly intelligent. She could write about the most mundane in ways that dripped thickly and conjured artistic images. That is what I erroneously was hoping to find within this movie not this superficial, all about Ted thingy that bored and saddened me.

It's a sham, really. It could have been so much more. A true look at her life this movie is not. It fails miserably and shares little of such a deep, profound woman.

When you are completely and utterly alone in this world

When you truly have no one, no close family, no friends that you can call, drop in on get a hug from. When there is no one to come home to, greet you with a "how was your day?"; no one to hug, no shoulder to cry on and you realize, full force, that your journey is truly walked alone...
You figure out how to make it work.
If you, like me, are a bona fide Soloist, you find worthy substitutes for love, companionship and comfort. Without knowing it, if you have existed for years Solo, you probably already have replacements in place. It may be a pet, or two or three. It might be a passion for reading, painting, walking, cleaning, gaming, daydreaming, crafting or any sort of engrossing hobby. It's imperative that you fill the void with something that feeds and nurtures you.
Me, I have always loved plants, gardening, aquariums and writing. I also own a Boston Terrier which is an ideal companion dog as she snuggles, greets me with glee whenever I arrive home and enjoys nothing more than sleeping on my lap or next to me under the covers.
At some point I realized that a significant other is too stressful, risky and too darn much work. Acceptance seriously decreases my stress and anxiety. I don't beat myself up or wish for things that really aren't in the cards.
This Is simply who I am. I make it work. I'm okay with living the Soloist life.

Switching Therapists

Our 1 1/2 year long run with Therapist Neo has drawn to a close. When she left on her annual month-long voluntary vacation the distress was insurmountable. It outweighed any and all benefits we have garnered working with her.
Don't get me wrong, we accomplished a great deal doing super heavy core, heart wrenching memory/people retrieval but, in the end, neither of us would bend. We reached a mighty impasse whereby we felt it best to leave.
The end of Neo was sudden and swift as I, who cannot predict my feelings regarding Anything until the moment arrives, felt the most painful distress a couple of days after she left. It was a tear soaked, insomniatic, chaotic frenzy as we wrestled in a place of enormous consternation and dilemma. It was a cyclone of switching and searching. All possible avenues were queried, dissected and explored. I knew that I would never, of my own free will and volition, subject myselves to such a situation ever again. Big adult logic overruled little hearts and minds. Protectors stood firm in seeking to save the youngest from such pain. And voted along with the Elders. The Council stated it's decree and wrote a formal letter to Neo, the fallen One. She is done. We terminated our alliance. It's time to move on. Hoping to find a therapist without so many walls and such scant little time.
The System stands together, weeps heartily and walks away from the pain.
So long
And thanks for all the fish

When your therapist goes on a month long vacation...

It feels like..

In the beginning... the first split

This is where I begin...
I am fully aware of the first split that started my Multiplicity. I was very young, under a year old, when my father committed a most egregious act of savagery against my small person, using my body as a perverted, sexual tool. The remembrance is a short series of brief visual images coupled with somatic sensations. It's highly disturbing, inhumane and grotesque in nature. A true abomination. But at least I know where I begin.
It's bothering in that if my father could commit such a heinous act on his own infant daughter, there surely are a multitude of other equally troubling incidents that have led me to become a highly fractured individual. It tells me that there must be more rooms, hallways and entire floors of alters hidden with traumatic injuries.
I am deeply wounded. Though I've always known that, the reality has indeed grown more real in my mind.
In a way, a large and looming question has been answered. Silently, I've always searched for the origin of our birth. That question has now been answered. I know when and how and by what means we split and I came to be. With great sorrow and devastation, I feel more real. Once this deep sadness and heavy grief abates, I will move on.
It feels as if I have a foundation now, although shaky at the moment. I have a starting place with which I can begin to weave my own life. It feels like I can work to set goals and discover which direction I wish to carry myself and the remnants of my life.
To set goals has often been a daunting prospect, as I never quite know how i will feel or who I will be from one day to the next, therefore, I shall find aspirations which are highly flexible and can be achieved intermittently without a rigid schedule. Currently, I'm floundering between intense grief and incredible boredom. I need something to hold onto, to look forward to and to strive for. Yeah, kinda like I need a reason to live, something to fill my days and hopefully to accomplish some set objective.
It isn't easy. It isn't pretty but this is me, this is us, this is our life. Going to make it okay.

Summing up the day

Been out of sorts all day. Can sum it up in two words, little and lost.