21 months 1 week 1 day 3 hours...

It must be the emotional pain eating me up inside that drove me to do this.

I haven't seen my T in two weeks. It's usually okay when I know she is going to be gone but this time she told me she wasn't going anywhere for Christmas. She canceled our last appointment and hasn't called me back to reschedule. Normally I am okay with this since it has only been two weeks, but right now I really need to talk to someone but I have no one to talk to.

My twin sister is getting married 2 1/2 weeks.
I have sexual abuse memories coming up 24/7 - I can't even think straight.
There are several of my abusers coming over to our house randomly "because it's the holiday's" and nobody seems to notice that I'm losing it.

One of my abusers had the audacity to feel me up in my f***ing kitchen with several other people in there. 

My nightmares have gotten so bad that I'm waking up screaming many times during the night shaking, sweating, panicking, and praying that I don't go crazy.

My splits are freaking out because there is too much going on for us to handle.

I just need someone to talk to who isn't a family member and who understands how traumatic things are for me right now.

It has been 21 months, 1 week, 1 day, and 3 hours since I last self-harmed/self-injured, until about 15 minutes ago when the emotional pain got to be too much to handle on my own. It's not bad enough for me to go to the ER, but it's bad enough that people are going to notice and I don't want them to.

They don't notice me anyway.

Well Guess What Mom, It's Too Damn Late

*****TRIGGER WARNING*****

He said he wanted to talk. Just wanted to talk to someone.

What adult wants to talk to a nine year old?

My parents went out to dinner on a Friday night. My uncle was living with us at the time. He fed all six of us dinner, he read us all a story, and then he put the four youngest to bed. My twin sister fell asleep on the couch in the living room.

I was sitting on the couch in the family room and he came in and sat next to me. "Can I trust you with something?" he asked me. He lifted up his pant leg and showed me the black band around his ankle. "I can't leave this house while I have to wear this." He took my hand and touched it to the small black box.

At first he was just rubbing my arm. He told me about how much he missed me while he was in prison. He told me how he couldn't sleep at night. He started to rub my back. He told me about how he wanted to change his life. He told me he wanted to do better. He started to rub my stomach. He told me that he wanted to find someone to love and to marry. He started to gently rub where an uncle should never go with his niece.

I tried to show protest by shrinking away. Then I tried to shift myself away from him. He kept getting closer to me. I tried to get up off of the couch but he pulled me right back down. I started to panic. He put his hand on my cheek and whispered softly into my ear, "it's okay, baby girl." I felt sick to my stomach.

He brushed his hands through my hair for a while, and then tucked me into bed. He stood in the doorway of my room for a long time, watching me.

Every night after that he would come into my room, lie down next to me in my bed, and molest me. At least once a week he would rape me.

Sometimes he would bring a knife and threaten me.

The next time my parents were going to go out to dinner, I begged my mom not to leave. She asked me why and I couldn't tell her. I told her I wanted our babysitter back. I promised I would be so good. My mom told me no. We had a perfectly good babysitter, my uncle. I started to cry and I begged her again, "Mom, please don't go. Don't leave me here." She just shook her head and walked out the door.

Why didn't she question? Why didn't she wonder why I would beg her not to leave me with him?

I tried to tell in the only way I knew how, and somehow it wasn't good enough.

Somehow I wasn't good enough.

This wasn't the first time I was abused and it wasn't the last. I think I hold strong feelings of anger and hurt and betrayal against my mom because she never listened to me. I tried to tell several times before, when I was younger, and several times after, when I was older. She never listened.

Today I have been remembering more things my uncle did to me during this time frame, and my mom noticed how upset I've been. Now she wants to know what's wrong.

Well guess what mom, it's too damn late.

I Don't Know What It's Like To Be Normal

I don't know what it's like to be "normal".

Sometimes I am very professional.
I say "please" and "thank you" and "bless you".
I dress nicely and comb my hair.
The way I act is conservative.

Sometimes I am like a child.
I color outside the lines and draw childish things.
I wear my hair in pigtails.
The way I act is naive, maybe even immature.

Sometimes I am a bully.
I pick on others who cross my path.
I dress in ripped up jeans and a t-shirt.
I wear my hair in a loose ponytail.
The way I act is mean and grumpy.

Sometimes I am peppy and bubbly.
I speak loudly and energetically.
I wear my hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, with some glitter.
The way I act is outgoing and super friendly.

Sometimes I am withdrawn and shy.
I avoid eye contact and keep to myself.
I wear my hair straight and down in my face.
The way I act is depressed.

Sometimes I am angry and frustrated.
I throw things and cause a scene.
I don't comb my hair or wash it.
The way I act is crazy and destructive.

Sometimes I am quiet and reserved.
I do what is expected and I listen.
I wear my hair pulled back into a bun.
The way I act is *perfect*.

Sometimes I am sarcastic and funny.
I have a comment for everything.
I wear my hair curly and fun.
The way I act is entertaining.

People who know me well have seen all sides of me.
People who don't know me have seen one side of me.

I am all of these things and none of these things.
I have Dissociative Identity Disorder.

I don't know what it's like to be "normal",
But I do like being me.

*Bee

Just One More Proof

My twin sister is getting married in 22 days...

I'm so happy for her and I'm so excited for her!
But at the same time I feel like a huge chunk of me is being ripped out much too quickly...

I've really grown to like my future brother-in-law (Bryan). He is a good match for her and such a great person. What cracks me up is how he tells us apart.

Brooke and I don't think we look alike but everyone else cannot tell us apart for the life of them. So Bryan has this system... When he happens upon one of us and he can't figure out who it is, he comes up to us and says a "command" (like "high-five!" or "knuckles!" or something similar) and he looks to see our facial expressions. If the facial expression is consistent, then it's Brooke. If it's not consistent, then it's me. Funny thing is, he doesn't know I have DID but this little test totally proves that I do!

I'm done rambling now...

If Only You Knew...

"I can switch bodies with you," I said.
"No you can't," Brooke replied. "It's not possible to switch bodies with someone."
If only you knew, I thought. If only you knew...

When I was younger, I didn't understand what I could do with my mind. I could create whole worlds, new friends, discover faraway places and not so far away places. I could be someone else while they were me. I could hide from the bad, the scary, the horrific, the threatening, the unthinkable. I could see people and talk to them that no one else could. But how do you explain that to somebody?

I tried to explain it to my twin sister when we were 9 years old. I told her that we could switch bodies - that we could really switch places!

She never believed me, though. She thought I was weird and stupid and that I was trying to trick her into believing something not real. I tried to tell Bri and Renee too, but they also thought it was weird. Bri and Renee would play along though, as if they could do it too - they thought it was some kind of game I made up.

It was very difficult to be so smart and be surrounded by people who couldn't do the things you could in your mind. By the time I got to second grade, I pretended to be not so smart. I purposely wrote down the wrong answers or made up random words and spellings of words to sound dumb. I hated that I was so much faster at figuring things out. I was being abused and no one even noticed. If they did, they never said anything.

Sometimes I wish with all of my heart that I could show my mom what it was like to be me growing up. Then she would understand me and believe me. I constantly go over and over in my mind all the thoughts I had as a kid growing up. Things I should have never been thinking about at such a young age. Things I should have never known at such a young age. Things I should have never comprehended as a child.

It honestly baffles me that there are people out there who don't think DID exists.

Can You Say Busy?

This week has been so crazy busy and full of such great news for me that I'm finding it hard to believe that it is all reality. That all of this good stuff can happen to me in such a short amount of time.

Monday I had a session with T. We (my splits and I) have been really depressed lately because of the types of memories that we have been remembering and we're dealing with the loss of a really close friend. Our T told us that she wants us to consider going back on anti-depressants for a few months so we won't harm ourselves during this hard time. We told her we would think about it and let her know.

Tuesday I went to my newer Dr H. I don't remember if I have talked about her or not on here... so I'll just briefly describe what she does. I first saw her back in October. My T encouraged us to tell Dr H that we have DID. Dr H was a little apprehensive at first. She didn't think she could treat us because she had no idea how to work with someone with DID. We ended up figuring out a way to test each individual split in a short amount of time to see who had which issues. This Dr H is amazing! She totally stepped right up to the challenge and by the end of that first appointment, she believed that we truly have DID because she tested all of them. She knew they were there!

The interesting thing is, I have about 7 different medications for different splits. We grouped them in groups of who has which issues and the meds to treat that issue. We have to take each med separately so the splits can come out and take what they need for their particular issue. For the past two months, I have felt so much better. The meds are working wonders for all of us and I'm excited to keep going to Dr H to get this all resolved. 

So on Tuesday we went back for a follow up, check up, and more testing. Dr H was so excited to work with us (because we're now her most interesting patient! haha) and we were able to see how each split was improving. We were prescribed 4 new meds along with what we were on before. It is all working out so great!

Wednesday we went to Dr C who is our new pain specialist. We told him we have DID because this doctor has to know if we have ever been diagnosed with a mental illness/disorder. And guess what? He's worked with patients who had DID! He knows quite a bit about it too, and he is very willing to work with us. He put us on some pain meds, anti-inflammatory meds, and muscle relaxers. Today we're finally feeling some relief. We're so excited!!

Wednesday afternoon I got the call - I GOT THAT TEACHING JOB!! I cannot describe how excited I am! I will be teaching 7th and 8th graders who have special needs. It is my dream job and not only did I get the job, but I start right away in January!

Thursday I spent the day at the school with the teacher I will be taking over for in January. Things should go very smoothly through the transition.

That night my mom threw me a graduation party. It was nice to have friends and family there supporting me. Most of them were able to attend the graduation right after the party. Graduation was awesome! I had so much fun with my teacher friends who graduated with me.

Friday I went back to the school and got some last minute things from the teacher. I feel prepared to take over the class and very little nervousness has settled in. I hope it stays away! :)

I am so blessed and I am so thankful for all of these new opportunities to have a better life. I have two wonderful doctors who are willing to work with me and treat me with the up-most care and respect. I have a T who has stepped up in the last few months to help me through this difficult time of year. I have an amazing twin sister who has been so supportive. I have amazing readers and friends through this small DID world that offer comments of encouragement, sympathy, hugs, positive and uplifting notes, advice, and overall genuine care.

I really want to make the best of all of this. Next step, get ready to set up my new classroom!

*Bee

Don't Tell

She didn't cry or make a sound,
Nobody would have heard her.
It buries itself deep inside,
No spoken words to give her.

They didn't know, they couldn't tell.
There was no sign or hint or yell.
But deep within her was a line:
Don't tell, don't tell, don't tell.

You Still Cause Me Pain

I don't know what to do.

I don't know how many countless times I have told my mom that I cannot be around my abusers. I feel like she never listens to me when I am talking.

One of my abusers will be coming over for dinner tomorrow. AGAIN.

I can't take this sh*t anymore!

Is my mom really that dense? Does she sit around all day trying to come up with ways to make me feel absolutely horrible? To make me have panic attacks or horrible flashbacks or body memories? Does it make her feel better? Or does she want to see if I'm really telling the truth, by exposing my abusers to me to see how I will react?

There are so many things I could type out right now to just let out how I really feel about my parents right now but I hate reading cuss words when I don't have to so I'm not going to make other people read them. But know I am thinking them. A whole big long gigantic stream of ugly words to describe what I am feeling right now towards my mom.

I wish my mom knew what she is truly doing to me every time she invites an abuser over. I wish she knew how much I hate her even more every time she does it. I wish she knew the pain she causes me, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

I can't keep doing this. I need to get out of this house, out of this town, out of this state.

Mom, why do you still cause me pain?

Tough Times

I know I am not the only one who has a tough time with this time of year, but this year seems to be the worst of them all. I wish I was able to put in words how I am feeling, but it is too raw right now. Maybe, I'm hoping, I will be able to write about it soon.


Some good news...
I have 4 days left of student teaching!
I graduate from college next week!
I have gotten 3 job offers to teach so far!

Even in tough times, some positive is bound to leak through.

It Floods In And Drowns Me

Memory after

memory after

memory after

memory floods

my inner self,

makes me feel

makes me numb

makes me want

makes me hate

myself.

I don't know

I do know

I can't tell

I won't tell

I have to

I'm scared.

Say no, say

something,

anything, to

make it

STOP.