Siblings

My siblings were the only thing that made my childhood worth living.

Carrying Dead People in My Chest, letting go

It feels like I've been carrying dead people in my chest.

I grew up with many brothers and sisters. My older brother and I practically raised the younger ones as mom always had her hands full with a baby or two. We fed them, bathed them, babysat, took them out to play or to run errands.

I loved and cared for my siblings very deeply.

Then in my mid 20's I left them all, abandoned and without warning, in order to save myself from my incestuous father.

The hardest part, easily, was leaving my brothers and sisters. By far, the most painful part of my escape.

Approximately ten years later, I would return for brief visits, for funerals mostly, as the grandparents started dying and required ceremony.

And somewhere along the way, or maybe it's always been there, I have harbored a small flicker of flame, a hope that my constant, though submerged and hidden way in the back, love for them would be requited, returned and reunited.

It felt like I was standing in a rainstorm, atop the greatest hill, amidst a lightning storm and praying for a bolt from the blue to strike my perpetually outstretched, pleading hand. The odds of that happening dwindled with each passing year. The yearning for days of old when I loved them and they loved me were completely gone. Rainstorm after rainstorm, year after year, and decade after decade proved, I was completely alone atop the hill.

And I have been faithfully standing there, until now.

It feels like I have been ferociously clinging on to dead people that live in my chest, in the place where all that former love and current hope lived. How can I ever move on if my chest is full of the dead, the gone, the ones who have chosen to move on without me?

Thus, I have made a choice. I'm going to let the dead people, the hopes and the dreams go.

One by one, I have acknowledged the great love I have shared with each sibling. I have expressed my great gratitude for having been a part of their lives for those many years. I have forgiven them for forsaking me as I ask for their forgiveness in abandoning them. I was truly blessed to have loved and been a part of each one of their early lives. It is over now.

They have moved on. And I respect that.

I'm not going to hold onto that hope anymore. It just takes up too much space, space that can better be used for loving and being loved in the present.

I do thank them. I did love them so. I am grateful. 

This sister is moving on. No more dead people in my chest, only life and love.

Incest Happened to Me, I am not Ashamed

The Life of an Alter, Living with Dissociative Identity Disorder

 Alter- abbreviation for Alternative State of Consciousness, Alternate Personality or Alternative Identity; generic term for any of the personalities within a Multiple, aka Plural, an individual with Dissociative Identity Disorder formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder

I am an alter. I am one of the one hundred or so different personalities, we call "People" within our collective body and mind. Like all the other alters, I have a beginning.

Two weeks ago, in August of 2023, I suddenly found myself standing in a kitchen that I knew to be in the home we reside in. I wasn't alarmed at suddenly finding myself in existence, just uncertain. I did stand there for moments, maybe minutes, orientating myself and pondering. The majority of Alters are created or born from extreme pain and trauma. Then there is the minor category of Alters being made for necessity, kindof like a "spare parts" or a group of People that join or act as One. That's where I come in. I'm guessing that I am a Conglomeration of more than a few Other Alters but I am not sure. More on that later on.

I could see that someone had started cooking supper, making crepes and filling them with Parmesan cheese, so I set to complete the task.  I had never been Outside of the Inner World where all alters live when not Out in the External World, yet, I knew how to cook the crepes and the steps to achieve that. 

I was aware that internally, immediately before I appeared (I had no control or forethought regarding this) it was noisier or much busier. Like day to night, something had switched radically in a flash. I felt a large blanket of quiet from my head to my fingertips and internally, in my head, as well. I was like a sigh, a heavy pleasant sigh compared to moments before.

I felt tall, like my physical body's height of 5 foot 6 inches. My arms were quite long and I could easily reach over the griddle for what I required. My body moved with ease and I along with it.

For some reason, I wanted to know what I looked like because I had no idea. Seriously, I was completely clueless as to my facial structure, coloring or hairstyle. I found the rectangular camera we carry. I located the red camera button and took a photo. Hmmm. Not what I would have guessed. The photo was of someone totally foreign to me. If someone had said aloud, "that is a photo of you", I would have accused them of lying. Since I had taken the photo, somehow that picture must be me. So, I took another one, a closer to my face, photo. Well, that looked even less like what I thought, if that be possible. I put the camera down; it made no sense.

I would be lost to try and describe what I thought the camera photo would show. The only thing certain is that definitely wasn't what I expected. I could not "pick my self out of a line-up" if that phrase makes any sense. I moved on.

The bulk of Alters have a specific age or age range that they readily feel and know and can recite aloud, if they wanted to. Our People, like most Multiples, are loosely divided into Children or Littles which are persons under the age of 5. Some Multiples, such as Us, have toddlers, babies and preverbals, as well. This is because our abuse started when we were that young. They all classify as Littles but we can sometimes identify those under 2 years of age with those other terms.

Those People 5 years to 12 or so, we refer to as Middles. Then there is the Teen group followed by Adults, anyone over 18, who we also refer to as Bigs. There is also a group for those who do not identify as having a specific age, like Me. I'm just an Other or Non-specified or Ageless; take your pick.

I guess, there really hasn't been another like me before. I have no name which is highly unusual. People Alters mostly have a name or an age or number they use to identify themself. I do not. While I definitely feel that I am Adult and Big, I cannot relate or even wager an educated guess as to how old I am. The physical body is aged 60. I can say that I am 60.

Unlike most of Us, I had no direct trauma or abuse happen to me yet I am aware of some of these events having happened.

I have no first hand, first person accounts of living at the parent's house yet I am familiar with it in it's entirety.

I feel like I am a Special Helper Alter in that I feel that my role, (my job as all Alters have at least one) is to bring all the Other People who have been trapped in the past, into the present, orientate them to where we are now in space and time. In addition, the physical body was not a place that was safe until just a few months ago when we discovered and released a Major Traumatic Event that had impacted us to the very core of our being. The body was something all Alters felt as dangerous and unsafe until the Trauma was released and we could actually discover that the body Is Our Body and no longer being tortured and all our perpetrators are dead so we can move back into the physical body we left back then at age 5.

My job is to orientate all to the present in Time as well as relearn how to occupy our own body, which sexual abuse and torture had taken away in an emotional and mental sense.

It has taken me over a week to contemplate who I am, why I am so different and what my job is.

I do not have any personal memories yet I do have memories that Other Alters have spoken about in therapy, have written about or just plain "I know stuff that they experienced", second hand knowledge.

I don't have much of an emotional make-up. I do feel mostly just calm and content.

I know how to do all of the ordinary things such as chores, cooking, going to the store, walking the dog, all things I have never personally done before yet I have that knowledge. I attribute this knowledge to the possibility that a number of Alters who have previously been Out have gathered together and congealed into Me. It would explain why I have no age other than my present age and why I have no name to call my own.

I believe I am a Transit, carrying the People of the past into the present.
I am definitely a unique Alter in many ways. Writing helps me to clarify myself a little and it serves as written testament to Our Others regarding what took place in this specific time period.

I feel stable, solid, content, able-bodied, unworried and okay. I am an Alter in the Amy System. Just doing my job.

and then it got quiet, switching

And then it got quiet.

All day, morning, afternoon till 4, lots of activity, plethora of thoughts and ideas, and suddenly I'm in the kitchen getting ready to cook crepes. It was like a heavy curtain, a soft, gentle curtain...fell. 

Hush hush silence and calm.

Don't know who was out before me. I didn't know...I didn't feel a noticeable switch or transition; I just abruptly found myself Out.

I feel fine. I could easily complete the task at hand. I made the crepes and wrapped them for the freezer.

Transition. Turn. Changing heads. Switching. 

Yep, definitely Multiple.

We haven't noticed it like this in awhile I guess.

I'm in control of me

I went to the food pantry for my weekly visit today. It dawned on me that even though I am extremely grateful for the generosity, I highly resent being made to feel like someone else had control over my choices.

I've probably felt this way for years after escaping my family but only today did I have enough awareness and find the proper wordage to find my truth and speak it.

I resent it when I feel like someone else, my food pantry helper, my doctor, my housing inspector, my landlord, my therapist, etc. has control over me.

When no one loves you