i remember in the beginning how scared i was of these voices, the flashbacks, the body sensations, all of it was so new to me and absolutely terrifying. i see people now going through these first steps in therapy and i just want to reach out and comfort them because there IS hope and even though every day is still such a struggle and sometimes it feels even worse than the beginning, i know im healing now and i dont feel completely left in the dark....the blanks are beginning to fill in however i will NOT accuse anyone of abusing me as a child if i did not know for sure if it happened. 

we're still working on that with the insiders...trying to accept, but first we need to accept us. last night i thought to myself,  i dont even care if i never get another memory back, but it seems now the more i focus less on filling in the blanks, the more the pieces are coming together. and im slowly, sadly  but graciously accepting these things as part of me my past and my life. im learning who i am by discovering what experiences i lived through that shaped me....that shaped us....all these parts of me, they are not some crazy wild spectacle for people to take advantage of (we've got at least 8 people up in here damnit! we sure don't miss a thing and can spot a dog gone liar a mile away!! sniff sniff, grrr) anyways, i feel like the doors are opening and its a little bit of all emotions jumbled together, just trying to make sense of where we are in the present moment, and how to continue to thrive with what we have. to do that requires gratitude, kindness, honesty, and most of all acceptance. i accept you all, i accept me, im ready to begin the real work to heal because beating around the bush by focusing on diagnosis' labels, stigmas, and anxiety over trying to hide all of my different parts, its stopping. to think that people "just know" on the street when they see me is partly delusional on my behalf. it's like how you cant tell a schizophrenic or a bipolar person or anyone with mental illness on the street. 

we dont have a big sticker on our head that says "HEY! IM A BUNCH OF DIFFERENT PEOPLE!" (even though i know we're not, this is really what it truly feels like to me, and I appreciate so much all the professonals who have shown so much respect and dignity to me and to my insiders. I can feel us all growing a little stronger on the inside. Clarity is quite becoming in my humble opinion :)

We are broken, but we are not forgotten.

We are lost, but we are not gone.

I really dont know what to do. I'm feeling scared. These body memories are too much and i feel like im being swallowed whole. i woke up so late today (which has been happening a lot lately) but id forgotten i was up really early in the morning crying and holding my stuffed rabbit and tossing back and forth. im pretty sure it was Janie i was co conscious with. i could feel everything she was feeling. i couldnt see clearly but i could feel physical pain, emotional torment, and such shame that i just wished so bad i could have broken free to protect her. im trying to really hold myself together. i keep getting these feelings of such ANGER and then sadness, pure grief.

Scattered Parts

Broken hearts, divided parts, they all live inside of me.

How many times can they divide my mind?

Broken hearts with divided parts scattered throughout my mind.

How many times can they wipe me out before I come back no more?

Can they instill a will in me that is not mine?

They broke my heart too many times and divided all the parts, then scattered them through time. Some are good and some are evil.

How many times can they split my mind?

The lights, needles and pain went on much longer than we can explain.

Did these things happen, or is it what they wanted me to believe?

Does God exist or is it what I want to believe?

Does the store house exist where the computer is?

Are there computers in me that help split me?

Scattered parts, broken hearts, where do I exist?

Is there a castle built inside? If so, what person am I?

Lights, needles, and pain goes on today, or is it lies that are made up in a mind split far too many times.

Broken hearts, divided minds, scattered throughout time.

I don’t want to mislead you.

Did the experiments work?

And they split me too many times?

Lights, needles, and pain.

They can wipe me out if I try to explain. Butterflies, butterflies, lots and lots of them. I lay down at nights with them.

I wrap up in a blanket made of them. I hear their hum as they lead me to the lights, needles and pain. The needles and pain make it so I can not think.

I get so sleepy, but I can not sleep.

The pain races through my mind and splits it one more time.

I have forgotten more than most will ever know.

The computer will show how many times they can split the mind, break the heart; divided minds scattered throughout time.

How many times before I can come back no more?

I found this on a blog I was reading earlier and I really liked it. I remember when a select few members of my family would say that we were "faking it." And a lot of people out there don't even think DID is real. It's very real though, and its no where near as rare as people think. 1% of people are affected by DID, so that means about 68 MILLION people have it. We're not as alone as we think.

D.I.D & Recovery: You're doing it wrong!

“You can’t have D.I.D because those “alters” aren’t human”
“Your system is too small/large”
“You can’t have D.I.D because you talk about it openly”
“You can’t have D.I.D because the way you say it is for you isn’t like it is on TV”
YOU DON’T HAVE D.I.D BECAUSE YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!
Identity, according to dictionary.com, is the condition of being oneself… and not another; the sense of self. Why then wouldn’t Dissociative Identity Disorder be different for everyone? Although people share many similarities, no two people (not even identical twins!) are exactly the same, nor do any two people have the same identity.
Even if two people go through exactly the same trauma and experience exactly the same things at exactly the same time, the impact of those events will not be the same, the way they cope and the way they deal with it will always be different. That is why no two systems are the same. That is why there are no set rules for D.I.D. If someone needed 2 dragons, a cat and a purple blade of grass to help them survive who are you to judge them, to say that that was the wrong way to survive?!
I am constantly amazed by people who feel that they have the ability, the qualification, the right to tell people that their D.I.D is wrong. That someone else is faking – especially when they were not there, and do not know the full story of what that person experienced and survived.

Even when people accept that someone has D.I.D, they usually then criticise their recovery goals. Again, who are you to decide how someone else should recover?! There is nothing wrong with giving advice to someone, but there is a very, very big difference between advice and criticism. At the end of the day, you will not have to live that persons’ life, or deal with the consequences of their decisions, so why should their recovery choices be any of your business?

if there was one wish i could make...it would be for no one to ever have to ever experience abuse. i was thinking the other day, if most abusers have been abused themselves, then who was the original abuser?
IM SCARED TO DEATH that im going to end up an abuser!!
i wish every little girl and boy could grow up safe, with food clothing shelter and loving parents. i wish that every abuse could be brought to light for the whole world to see! So much is hidden. Even in nice outwardly loving and perfect homes seemingly refined by every luxury while encased in dogmatic moralistic beliefs, monsters still lurk, typically in plain view and site for all to see, most just chose (conciously or not) to not acknowledge such monsters.monsters need to be exposed. but what about the monsters in me? the monsters inside of all of us?
These monsters must be faced head on, with courage, and with the armour of Love. 
All things in due time will be revealed as they need be...no sooner, no later. 

Well it's been a rough week. Ellie's been coming out a lot and we found out she's the one whose been cutting. Apparently she talked to the roomie and said she's not going to cut anymore because it isn't pretty.
I wrote a letter this morning and cried my eyes out for a long time about some stuff that happened in the past, I needed someplace to share it so I thought, since I'm anonymous on here, this site will do just fine..

Youve hurt me in a lot of ways...and one of the biggest ways you hurt me is the fact that you dont acknowledge that you ever hurt me in the first place. Ive in turn, tried to not acknowledge this fact as well. Everyone knows what kind of person you really are, and I don't feel like it's very fair for MY mask to be slipping without yours slipping as well. I dont feel connected to you at all...I haven't for a very long time. Part of me feels like we lost that connection years ago, in some strange foreign mess of memory that stands the test of time, never leaving, always there in the back of my mind. You're like a tree that never loses its leaves, but the colors still change all the same. You fit your own personal seasons.

Why am I crying as I write this? Maybe you can tell me, though I know you never will.
What happened to me Daddy? Why am I now alone and lost? can I ever be found? was i even here in the first place? WHY do my ears keep ringing and WHY does my heart go on singing when it wants to wallow in the despair of a young lost girls clamoring arms trying to break free from a grasp that felt so imminent for so long.
Never daring to TRULY speak up, never daring to really dig deep and uncover things lost and now gone away.
Tattered paper planes, doll houses that were never built, never found their way back to me. How was I supposed to know what love was when you never showed me in the right way? How was I supposed to force myself to keep my
head high in hopes that I could do EVERYTHING I could to just appear worthy of a look into your eyes...a look I now think on with fear, confusion, worry, doubt, all the things I hate about myself, I see directly in you. WHY?!
How come things can't just be simple? Why can't people just be honest here? Why does this whole damn thing feel like such a 3 ring circus that does nothing but keep my head spinning....spin spin spin here we go again, down the
rabbit hole, I feel a pulling on my soul. Where do we go from here? Who knows? Just thought I would put this down on paper, so whoever may read...may know...

 im allowed to write now. im no longer a raggedy ann doll being tossed aside as a play thing or a trinket to displayon your wall...

your insurmountable wall with all your "things." im not one of your things. not anymore.  your "things" are all you know.

 
i feel sorry for you...sorry for your things..

We're healing slowly...one day at a time. This is Samantha, I'm out a lot of the time. Most people never know it's me, but I don't really mind. I'm sure they have some idea that things arent what they seem whenever Julia's back and can't seem to remember things all too well. Sucks it has to be this way for now, but stability's needed in the system and there's things going on right now that I'm far better equipped to handle than Julia.  Anyway, just thought I would introduce myself on here...I don't have to hide on here.

 

 

 

Well here goes my first post. It's early in the morning here and I just wish I could go back to sleep. And not just sleep...I crave and long for REAL REST. Tossing and turning nightmares all crawling through me just never stop. I take a medication thats supposed to help with sleep and nightmares, but its barely working if it even is at all. I joined a new support group for abuse survivors but I feel a little out of place because some of the things I experience are much different...but! on a positive note, i found a few other people on the group who dissociate and lose time as well, so we can talk and relate which is cool.
  Havent talked about DID or anything, but I dont think I really need to because theyve helped me whether they know or not. I dont think its healthy to focus on a diagnosis. I rather focus on my symptoms, and how I can manage them. Things had been getting better since I moved from an unhealthy environment, but now I feel like I'm just hanging on by a thread and I just have to TRY to make it to the next day. I'm afraid I'm going to end up in the hospital. I'm scared I'm going to lose myself in my head....I'm terrified of thinking that if I let my guard down, someones going to come out and hurt me. Ive hurt enough. These memories coming to the surface feel like too much, and theyre not even whole memories, just bits and pieces. how many times do we have to face this, talk about this, express this, live this? I feel like if people knew what's really going on inside, and that I'm struggling every moment to keep things inside from breaking free and tornadoing my life up, i would collapse and shatter, again, my mask is fading...where are the others? oh, hats too? my my, lets just have a costume party shall we? fuck. stay hidden, dont tell, keep your secrets well, thats one of the keys...but the locks already broken. wait! when did this happen?? should i go in? not today. not today....

so many keys are broken or out of tune anyway