I recently began seeing a guy and he changed the way I view males. Being around this person has also helped my alters to see that not all people want to hurt us. This particular guy is a serious exception. I was weary of getting into a relationship because lets face it- I have some issues :) Nonetheless, I was very honest with this guy and I was very surprised by his reaction. I told a very watered down version of my past and I told him if he wants to get into a relationship with me he has to realize that means dealing with my where I am right now. He was very sweet and told me that he thinks I’m strong.

Sometimes I wake up and I realize how different and amazing my life is even though I’m still on this difficult journey. I am learning that healing and trusting other people is such an enriching experience that I defiantly missed out on during childhood. Trust is so important to being a human.

Recently one of my alters felt trust for the first time. This alter was terrified that if my therapist touched her skin then it would somehow burn if off. She resisted touching my therapists hand for months even when she wanted to. The day that this alter finally did hold my therapists’ hand my alter began to sob uncontrollably. My alter could trust my T because she didn’t touch her skin even when my T wanted to console my alter and help her to feel safe. I don’t know what my life would be like if I never trusted anyone.

I trusted one of my friends and I told her that I am a multiple. Trusting her with my secret has been so freeing and liberating. She doesn’t judge me instead she asks me tons of questions to try to understand how it all works. She even uses the word “singleton” to describe herself now. If the world had more people like her it would be so amazing.

Recently I have encountered some very judgement people. Rigid thinking is something that I won’t ever get used to hearing.

I am a social science major so I am able to take some classes about mental illness. I take these classes for a few reasons- I understand the material quite easily and I want to see other peoples knowledge and reaction to the world of mental health.

Today my professor when over the broad categories of mental illnesses. I am lucky to have a great professor that makes it a point to acknowledge the great level of intelligent that many people who are mentally ill possess. I find that to be so great because much of the time people stereotype and forget that the mental illness does not define the person it is just something that occurs.

With that said- I have a friend that I study with and as we were going through the disorders and we got to dissocitive disorders she whispered and said “have you ever seen a person with multiple personalities?” I responded “no have you?” We were in the middle of class so we continued the conversation as we were walking outside. My study partner said that she knew someone that had multiple personality disorder and she said yeah, people who have that disorder are “total freaks”. I tried to remain as calm and natural as possible even though inside I was getting frustrated. I asked my study partner why she felt that multiples are “freaks”? She said that “it’s because they act like different people and talk in different voices and they are highly dangerous because they kill people.” At this point I was just in pure and utter shock.

I wanted to tell her that I am a multiple and I am not in anyway a “freak”- and I don’t kill people. And that multiple personality disorder is a rather old term- because it’s actually called DID. I wanted her to know that when she said all those judgmental things she was judging me and my people who fight the agonizing fight everyday.

No one chose this life- it just happened because of other peoples decisions and many people who are sadistically abused during child spend most of their lives trying to be functional beings in this cold sad world. I am very sad that many people are so uninformed about DID- the stigma is reinforced and it makes me feel so utterly hopeless.

I don’t get to live the simple carefree life that most 20 something year olds live. I spend most of my money on gas to get to my therapy appointments. I have to do the work that someone else should have done. I’m feeling pretty angry that my parents didn’t protect me and do their job when they left me to the hands of my abusers. I spent and still spend much of my life feeling responsible for my abuse when I couldn’t do anything to stop it at the time. I wish this wasn’t my life and I could wake up from this horrible nightmare.

I know that I currently have a pretty okay life but right now I feel judged and I am just utterly frustrated.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel hurt and pain. I am still very much still working through my past. I still am afraid of other people and myself. There was a long period of time that I wasn’t feeling so thankful. I tried to end my life several times but everytime one of my alters stopped whom ever was trying to die. But every time I lived and when I woke up inpatient I was angry.

I never understood why I kept escaping death when I was on the brink so many times. I wanted a life of peace more than anything in the world. I am not saying that suicide is the answer but I did deserve peace. My childhood was so chaotic and I am so lucky that I lived through it all because I have seen so many others die.

I have been thinking about eyes constantly lately. There’s something about them that frighten me. I have been working on this issue with my T and I realized that I am afraid of eyes. I never wanted to look into my abusers eyes when they were hurting me. But it’s the clearest memory that I have- when I went to one of my abusers who is still alive but sick. I needed to look into my abusers eyes once more so I could stop blaming myself for something I couldn’t control. I am not totally there yet ( blaming my abuser) but I am closer than I was before.

I guess I can say that I am lucky to be able to do this intense work with my therapist. But in the moment when I am laying on my therapists floor in pain because of body memories I don’t feel lucky at all because everytime I remember something I realize that a part of me died. I will never get any of that time back it’s lost and gone forever.

Nothing in my life will ever be easy or convenient. I am always going to have to work harder and I must continually live the life of “the process”.  Living life through the process is difficult and unfair- many times I look back on everything that I had to go through and I am sad. I am saddened by the lack of so much.

I desperately want to feel and be loved. I want love from my parents more than anything in the world but I am never going to get that.  I am so envious of other people much of the time- I just want a life of freedom and love. I understand that eventually I may get there and I know that about a year ago, I was close to that and I did feel a small amount of peace. But the problem was that I wasn’t letting anything out- I was pushing down and repressing the past even more than my body did. I was fighting the process because I knew that the process was going to be so painful and long.

I sit in my therapist’s arms much of the time and I just cry- the sound of this cry gives me this feeling in my heart. I feel so lonely with this process and this life- I do have many people who cheer me on everyday but it never takes away that feeling that I have in my gut-emptiness.

I am questioning everything right now and my mind is racing. I want to be free and live but I am bound to this life- of therapy sessions, internal meetings, stuffed animals, and blankies and cereal. My heart hurts from the past and continuous betrayal of my parents- I didn’t ask for this and I have so many unexplainable feelings surrounding our relationship or the lack of.

I wish I could love a person without having remnants of my past tainting my relationship. I do deserver wholesome love and companionship but I don’t know if there is anyone who would love me and all my alters. If I was in a relationship with someone it would be a lot for them to love all of me when I am not sure if I love myself.

Today I am hating the process…

It all happens so fast- life. I put a lot of pressure on my self and I want to be perfect but 3 years ago I was still fighting the process and life itself. Many doctors that interacted with me suggested long term hospitalization because I was that sick. I think at that point I had given up too. I didn’t ever think I would have a future or a life.

But today and everyday I have both of those things. I strive for perfection and put a lot of pressure on myself. Success feels so great and now that I can actually feel the positive energy from my successes it makes me want it even more. The problem with this is that I feel a lot of unneeded stress. And that causes me to feel overwhelmed when I shouldn’t.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 6,300 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

I think that verbally expressing a memory is both painful and freeing. When I heard myself speak the words -I actually began to feel- something I hadn’t done in a very long time.

I felt both sorry and thankful for my alters. I was finally able to appreciate them as they are. I get so frustrated with them much of the time but today I realized how important they are in my life.

After I got home my heart just started to hurt. I have never experienced that feeling about my own past but I think that it’s important that I finally allowed myself to feel something.

For the longest time I tried to pretend like this part of my past did not exist because it was too painful. As everything started to come together I had a realization that these things did happen to me. Things started to make sense in an eerie way and I push these memories farther and farther down. I could feel the fear everyday and breathing became difficult.

But now I can breath easier because I am not alone with my truth. Today when my therapist called me an abused child I just broke down because it’s just the truth and it hurts. The past hurt me so very much but the future doesn’t have to be like that anymore because today I spoke my truth and I am free.

This song is so comforting to me right now so I thought I would share.

The words that cut like daggers, the belittling, the fear that takes over my body -because I know where it can go. It can escalate to a point where I no longer want to stay here.

During those times, I always had a feeling that has been unexplainable until now. It is fear of having nowhere to go and the sense that I was going to be abandoned and left alone.  Left to the hands of my abusers because that’s what used to happen when the fighting got too bad.

I know that my family does not know how much all the fighting and verbal abuse affects me.  When people tell you things about yourself everyday that probably are not true-  eventually you start to believe them.

I have a fear about being intelligent. I don’t like when people realize that I am smart because I feel like I shouldn’t be because of my past. My brain knows that just because someone tells you your stupid it doesn’t mean anything. But my heart knows that what parents say shapes who you are and it effects me. I keeping trying to accept and love myself but these tapes in my brain get in the way sometimes.

My dad said something to me before that really made me angry. Ok so I mentor a little girl and I do lots of things with her. And my family doesn’t get why I wanted to do something like that. So tonight my dad asked me why I “waste my time with her” And I replied (sarcasm) “I wish someone was nice enough to waste their time with me as a child”.

Oh, the constant reminders of why I cannot live with my parents.

Most of the time I write these blog posts and I’m convinced that my words make no sense. But the more I write the more progress I am able to make. Through the posts of this blog I am growing as a person. I have something that I can look back on and realize that I have made progress.

I recently shared my blog with someone that I met at school. (This person is probably reading this right now) Ever since I shared my blog with this person I have this feeling of dare I say…normal. I can’t believe I just wrote that sentence but it’s true.

I am always so afraid of what people will think about the secret part(s) of my life that I have that it causes me to feel so different and disconnected from the world. I am on the earth but sometimes I’m merely floating right now.