Here it is again. A feeling of wanting to jump up and do something. A surge of power in me. The Bitches (8) must be at work in me, giving me the taste of their power. They lay me out in a coffin. I am dead meat to them. They talk to me nicely and pour the blue liquid fire all over me. To fill me up with their power. Every time they do this I become theirs more and more. I think I am losing Lyn but I’m just trying to pull her in so that she can see the shell from the inside. Me from the inside out.
I’m in one of those periods where I have little sense of the others. Patience (1) is the only one I really stay in touch with as she keeps trying to comfort me or offer suggestions when things get bad. I assume that I’m just more in touch with the others on a more subconscious level.
A show on tv. A woman kills her husband after 12 years of abuse, slapping her, beating her, sodomizing her and I feel something deep down inside me shift. Intense fear. For some reason I identify with that woman’s situation, something familiar about it. But I cannot accept it, cannot believe it has anything to do with me. It happened to someone else, not me. It is so hard to accept that there are parts of me that I don’t know yet. I feel a stranger to myself and that is the scariest thing of all. I used to feel so comfortable being myself. I thought I knew who I was. Now I question my identity daily. If it’s possible I feel even more removed, more dissociated from this person than I did a year ago. I knew there was something I was after even though I didn’t know exactly what it was. Now I feel more frightened and unsure. The closer I get to some kind of core pain, the more I try to distance myself.
The Bitches or someone has been at my insides chewing them out completely. I feel exhausted mentally and physically. I know Tir (1) continues to think about suicide or some kind of desperate act. An act of despair. I keep seeing shadows and waiting for the grab on my neck and the shouting and anger. I keep looking around expecting him to jump out at me any minute. I hate people following me on the street. They come up right behind me. They know about me so they do this to make me nervous on purpose.
I feel so split. Not as different alters but with my understanding and belief of what is happening to me. In one way I think the others are very real. I can’t seem to dispute the fact when I do “allow” them to emerge on their own, to express themselves. It feels is a very big release and it feels as if something that’s been held in for so long is now finally coming out. On the other hand, I feel my Denial, and that’s with a capital “D”. When I am alone in my head, when it’s all quiet Inside, then I think that I have simply made all of this up, for good reasons I’m sure, but still, then, I don’t believe I was abused. I do believe I was abused as a baby only because my mother says I was. And I have some “pictures” in my head about the abuse when I was a teenager.
I am freaking out with all of this. Frank Putnam (author of “Diagnosis and Treatment of Multiple Personality Disorder”) says that the “host” alter is not usually the original person. There is a deep instinct, intuitive sense that says Tir (1) is the real person here. The one who was born. Not me. So if that is true then this would explain why I am so frightened for Tir to come out. I keep thinking I will disappear. It shakes my whole world upside down. It seems to take everything I’ve believed about myself and throw it out the window. My loss of identity. Maybe I have just plotted and planned all of this. I always wanted to be an actress and now I’m starring in the biggest role of my life. But I keep asking why I would do such a thing. And as I read the book “MPD from the Inside Out” I am shocked that I am multiple. It is hard and yet a relief to read other people’s stories. I still have a hard time believing. Hurts, hurts, hurts.
Ariel (1) says I’m screaming Christmas carols. She wants us to phone Lyn. She says I’m scaring the little ones.
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