51. The More Others

Spunky giggly Alex

in tree roots I lie

wrapped in their arms

they keep me safe

from all that has fallen

that has hurt me and torn me apart

in my heart

the ladies would prefer

I lay for them open

exposed and seen by them

and I cannot fight now

unless I wish to die

but in the tree roots there will I lie

and when it’s time

at my command

they will rise up

those trees of mine

and they will grab

those ladies fierce

and squeeze their bodies

till blood pours out

and then will I cry and cry

for the joy will be mine

those tree roots and I

--- Tir (1)

Lyn tells us of a woman who is going to run an education and support group for multiples. Yes, of course we will go. Patience (1) thinks it may help Shell (1, 2) to accept being multiple, accept that we were abused.

-----

Not “I”, a little Guardian. n’i (2)

A dream. It is the 1700’s. A civil war has just ended. Men, soldiers, tired, worn out, return home. We join them, walking with them. The sky is heavy laden, the weight of thick humid clouds. The air all around is twilight pink. It’s like being in a movie, larger than life in sight and sound, but for the soldiers it is reality. n’i tells us this is her world. Then we are with women and children and it is the 1800’s. Again n’i says this is her world. These are The More Others. Someone calls for everyone to be quiet. It is the calm before the storm. Then everyone must swallow together, at the same time. The swallow is all that is heard.

Three nights after this dream they emerge, n’i leading them out. They come from a place they call The Suburbs though others have called it a Dead Zone. The Suburbs are away from the chaos and noise of a city’s core. n’i does not live in The Suburbs but rather on its edge. Her name is her main desire – to not be a part of “I”, not be a part of any group. Just be on her own. She is tomboyish. Rubs her runny nose a lot. Messy, not into dolls, not a “young lady”.

As we walk down the street Belle (2) emerges. Her soft southern drawl suddenly comes into our head after we had caught the eye of a nice looking man. She just blurted out that we should forget about being involved because nice looking men are the worst men to be involved with. We laugh out loud. She calls them “gentlemen”. Ever see “Gone with the Wind” or “The Glass Menagerie”? Gentlemen callers. But her favourite movie and book is “To Kill a Mockingbird”.

As they make their presence known there is much more to learn about us and our internal world. Some of us were created not to deal directly with abuse, but rather to function in some specific way. The Controller (2), Old Self  (2) and Patience are much like this and it was mainly these three who built the city of Kereth. They knew we would need it for healing. We are so visual and seeing a world we journey through gives our recovery a clean and clear focus. Many multiples do this, create an internal world, a place of magic, myth and metaphor. Our mind, Maura, is the canvas we paint our journey on. It is the place of story and story is key. Stories are easier to remember than cold hard facts. They hit us on an emotional level. They go straight to the heart.

Tir retreats as more of us emerge. She is becoming more afraid of what each of us carries for her. She knows she needs to, but does not want to hear the stories. Shell doesn’t want to hear them either but knows she must. We can’t be “whole” until our stories are told. Tir is beginning to trust Lyn a little but she sees the needles. She thinks Lyn has them and waits to use them on her. We cannot tell her any different. She does not hear us. She is lost in the ladies who injure her, lost in her fear of their poison. They fill her up with blue liquid, their power rushes through her veins. She knows she must obey them and do what they want. For now.

-----

how can anyone not love

those they have found inside themselves

those who have protected

the very heart and soul of this being

those who have withstood outrageous acts against themselves

how can anyone not love them

for their outstanding courage to absorb pain

that should not be given to any human being

how can anyone not love those inside

for whoever they be

for all their perversity

their destructiveness

their want of power

their need to be loved

their sheer creativity