February 17, 2012

My D.I.D. without trauma.

Its a bit unrealistic to think that just because I'm not being tortured, raped, witnessing the violent death of children or whatever, all my multiples have just 'gone away'. It's difficult to think about. When there has been mind control from a very early age their is no 'core' that isn't a deliberately created construct. There were times when I would look down at my hands and think 'oh my god I'm me'. Not very many times. I'm not sure what I feel when I looked at my hands now, beyond annoyance that I need to cut my nails that is. They're not my hands, were just stuck with each other.

Increasingly tempted to go calling to see who I can dredge up. The reading has helped me loose my fear of hypnotism, with the right person of course and I can't see how I can find who ever that is anytime soon.

I remember that terror of realising I'd lost time. Working in Tesco, stacking freezers. I was working down the aisle tidying up and looked up the row and realised I was several feat further down the aisle than I thought I was. It doesn't sound like much, but it wasn't autopilot, one second I was in one place, a second later I was much further down with no memory what so ever of doing the work. I'm going to try and speak to the psychiatrist about it, the fears I have about working again, how hard that semi formal socialising is for me, how hard it is to concentrate. My tendencies to either completely bow to instructions or reject them totally.

I think I know why they don't talk to me. I'm one of them. Someone who is weak and can't be trusted, someone who ignores and exploits them. It's them that's real, not me. I'm just a programmed front and I can't get any further without them. But I took the pain and the horror for them to especially in the last years, they were so much more clever, skilled, competent than I am. I didn't have much to loose they did. It was them people were usually after anyway, I didn't want to give them what they wanted.

'It's not working. Why isn't she splitting?'

I was up late last night in the living room when I got that creepy feeling again. There was thumping, my down stairs neighbour was having sex and I had went vague and deaf rather than hear it. I feel it when I see my son fall, I freeze, too terrified to run to him in case I lose him. I need to deal with some of this, I will not be the sort of mother that turns herself into a zombie rather than deal with the pain of seeing their child hurt.

Dissociation although necessary for survival, makes me vulnerable to further abuse. Olga Trujillo describes it in the sum of my parts a bloke she knows she isn't safe with starts asking her questions about where she lives and what she does and she hears her self answering the questions automatically. Been there. The way she was delighted to be asked to go fishing with her brothers because she thought is meant they wanted her company when in fact them and their mates just wanted her holes. Its almost a choice, there is going to be more rape anyway so why not pretend for a little while that they like and care about you. What difference will it make?

Come back guys, me and the wee man need you and we love you.
Glasgow, the adverts, the programming, being forced to hold that grey spongy stuff that tastes like the yuckyness you get when youve been smoking too much but much, much worse
No more brain damage.