Read This First
In October of 2010 Erin was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. This blog is to record what is going inside Erin's mind. We don't know what all that will entail... But we are hoping that keeping a record of it will help in some manner. We also hope that maybe, just maybe, that we'll heal from whatever issues that we have and come out victorious.
All personalities or identities within Erin are invited to write here; each entry will be marked with who is writing.
If you are a survivor yourself, there are no trigger warnings on the entries... Please be careful as you navigate this blog. If you are a significant other of someone with DID/MPD, our hope is that this blog may be of some use to you, but please remember that every person with DID is very unique and must be considered as their own case.
Thank you for visiting!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
I remembered you.
I remembered your hands. Your mouth. Your fingers. All of them touching caressing that which you had to even dare take. Do you even realize how much terror you put into me? How much doubt? Do you even regret your actions? Do you regret breaking a small, helpless girl?
You, sir, have scarred me deeper than words can describe. My very inner being aches and throbs as though hundreds of blades have pierced me and they cannot be removed. Can you imagine the pain? It's overwhelming. My body wracks with sobs when I don't block it out, if I think about it.
I close my eyes to find peace as I sleep, but I can see your silhouette, your vest, your orange hat. It's as though I have to submit to your abuse before being allowed the luxury of sleep. I close my eyes and your hands are on me again, in me again. I hate it.
And I begin to hate myself, because some small part of me enjoyed it. I disgust myself. I feel impure, dirty, used, thrown aside. And it's your fault.
You used me like a disposable object. You preyed on me multiple times, then threw me away when you had your fill. Like trash, garbage, refuse. I grew up believing that about myself.
If this wasn't enough, you planted that cruel lie as you whispered in my ear... "If you tell... No one will believe you..." Was breaking me not enough?! Why did you have to plant doubt in me! Victims don't usually tell about their abuse. So why did you feel this was necessary?!
You screwed my live over! I am a mess, an emotional train wreck. Why did you do it? For a moment's pleasure?
I hope you burn in Hell.
Dreaming comes so easily, cause it's all I've ever known. True love is a fairy tale, I'm damaged so how could I know. I'm scared and I'm alone; I'm ashamed and I need for you to know. I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say, and you can't take back what you've taken away, cause I feel you; I feel you near me. Healing comes so painfully and it chills me to the bone. Will anyone get close to me? I'm damaged as I'm sure you know. There's a mending for my soul; and ending to this fear; forgiveness for a man who was stronger. I was just a little girl, but I can't go back...
-- "Damaged" by Plumb
A week or more ago, I learned something new which has cause more inner turmoil and struggle than I have ever had to face. It's as if I have had questions haunting me my whole life, and they were answered with one single memory...
Why? Why do I feel incomplete, flawed, worthless? Why do I feel like people ought not like me? How come I have always hated myself?
When I was a kid in Girl Scouts, there were plenty of talks about self-esteem and self-image. I had always scoffed, saying that it was bologna and that we ought not place esteem in ourselves. My mom told me it was because I had naturally high self-esteem... But I would cry at night, hating who I was...
So I ignored it, as best I could, for a long time as I tried to shape my image as "the weird girl." It wasn't hard and it made a great defense against people who I thought wouldn't understand. I found that strange people tended to be broken people, and broken people understood.
But still, there were nights, countless nights, that I would ask why I was sad though I had no discernible reason. Then in high school I would be overly angry, depressed, melancholic, all for no apparent reason. Sometimes it was a deep ache that would come unexpectedly, stay for a while, and then just as unexpectedly leave without a trace. There never was a reason that I could find. And when I talked to my mom about it, she would always say that I just didn't think hard enough to find the reason... But now it makes sense, for I had simply blocked out all recollection of why.
I was watching the movie Thr3e (based on the novel by Ted Dekker; I recommend) which is about an extreme case of MPD. The main character had a flash back to a swing set swaying in the wind at night... Apparently, Little Erin had gotten bored so she took a look to see what I was doing, saw the swings, and thought we were at a playground. There had been previous incidents where I learned that something had happened to me at a playground when I was a young child, but Little Erin had always refused to talk about it. In hindsight, I cannot blame her at all; I can hardly talk about the memory myself... Needless to say, Little Erin is afraid of playgrounds, especially swings, and was very frightened. As I tried to understand better why she was afraid, Little Erin returned to me the memory of what happened all those years ago. When I snapped out of the flash back, I was able to choke out what happened to Nickie, then my body collapsed into body wracking sobs.
When I calmed a bit, Nickie asked to talk with Little Erin, if she felt safe enough to come out. Things when I was co-conscious with Little Erin are a bit hazy, but Nickie tells me she talked a bit with Little Erin about the memory. I do remember that we watched the beginning of Disney's Mulan, which she had never seen before and had fallen asleep during. I took over after Little Erin fell asleep and Nickie then told me that Little Erin cried hard enough to make my stomach upset...
As I tried to fall asleep a bit later, the fact that that what I remembered really happened, and I sobbed more. My eyes were swollen a little the next day.
Since then, I have spent the hours and days struggling between complete denial and grudging acceptance of the abuse I experienced. I was more than happy to continue denying that it happened, but Guilt wouldn't allow that.
Last Thursday (January 27th) night, Guilt finally became so fed up with me avoiding the subject that she gave me a promise. I'm not entirely sure how Guilt managed it, but she forced me to feel what I believe to be the mass majority of the pain the alters were created to take care of. When I slowed my crying, Guilt threatened that ever day that I do not deal with it, she will haunt and torment me as I try to sleep. Nickie wasn't too happy about the threat, but agreed to remind me to think and deal with things... I agreed to nothing and continued to deny the reality of my memory.
Two days after that happened, I realized just how many questions that this one memory answers if I accept it's reality...
Q: Why have I been in pain my whole life?
A: Because when I was 6-years old, a man cruelly and horribly abused me and I couldn't handle it.
However, along with the answers comes new phobias, new pain. My mild fear of men has exploded into a phobia of men I do not know. I don't want people to touch me. The smell of beer/alcohol, which I previously enjoyed, now frightens me.
And as I begin to struggle with these, the overriding fear is that people won't believe me. That my parents will not believe me. I hardly want to believe it happened, so why would others believe me when I didn't tell them about it at the time? When I "supposedly" suppressed it for 15 years? Why should people believe my testimony?
"Will anyone get close to me? I'm damaged as I'm sure you know.... I was just a little girl, but I can't go back..."
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Black Room
The Black Room is a dark and empty expanse with a 8-foot wall running through it. At a point along the wall is a cluster of white doors set in a circle. If you can imagine standing in a dark room looking into a doorway to a brightly lit room, this is what the doors look like. However, while the white doors look as if they ought to provide light to the Black Room, they do not.
The wall is dark grey in color and the material is moist and crumbles easily. The wall runs as far as the eye can see in either direction and it is 50-feet or more thick. Nere (also known as the Ragged Figure) tunneled through the wall until he/she had to stop on account of running into a smooth metal plate.
The most distinctive feature about the Black Room are its two different areas. The first area which is within the circle of doors is called the area of light or within the light; it has no specific name. Within this area, visibility is perfectly clear however there is no light source nor are there shadows. In the space between the doors, there is a very distinct separation between the area of light and "the darkness beyond the light," or "the Darkness."
The Darkness is an area that I do not know much about. The one and only time I tried to take a look out there, I was confronted by what I can only call a cloud of intense fear. It was explained later to me by Morrigan that those who belong to the area of light do not go into the Darkness, nor do those who belong to the Darkness venture into the area of light. The only exception to this are those who belong to both; I have not yet found this exception. The alter Thanatos resides far out in the Darkness somewhere past Jihan's Apartment door; Thanatos has never been within the area of light.
Something that is very important in the Black Room is that no one is allowed to bring light (such as a flashlight, candle, or any light producing object) into the Black Room. I do not yet fully understand the reason for this.
Some fun facts about the Black Room
While physical laws such as gravity apply, I have found that I have been able to create objects "from nothing" while there. For example, I created a walky-talky for Little Erin so she can communicate with me without having to leave the Room of Requirement and a cell phone to speak with Morrigan in her room of Sierra's House. I have also created something like a force-field between myself and others in order to protect myself; it's pretty neat.
Something else that has proved to be useful is something like a comm system connecting any of the rooms to the Black Room. This way, if any of us are in the Black Room and need to speak to someone in one of the rooms, we are able to. Or, if any of us are in our respective rooms and need to speak to someone in the Black Room, we also are able. However, this comm system does not run from room to room. Nor can you mute it, so whatever is being said must be heard; this doesn't mean you can't ignore what's being said, but you have to hear it at least.
As I said, things can be made "from nothing" in the Black Room, this includes making other rooms. When Little Erin needed a place to stay that would hide her from Blissy, I created the Room of Requirement (more on that in a different post). I have also seen Guilt create her own door which disappeared behind her; I have no idea where that door led.
Last, but not least, within the Black Room's area of light, every alter has a spot where he or she typically stands, to the point that I can make a diagram. However, as different things happen, we alters change where we stand. Originally, Marie-Shiloh stood near the Wall. After a flashback induced panic attack, she moved into Sierra's House. We do not move places that often, but when we do it seems to be after something big happening.
So far there seems to be only two major shifts in where us alters stand in the Black Room. (This first image does not have white doors because I was not aware of them quite yet.)
I hope to eventually have a blog page with a summery description of each room. On this page, I will try to keep an up to date diagram of what the Black Room's layout.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
When Jihan's father kidnapped him and Morrigan, it could be said that he was affected by the event more than his sister. Morrigan went from being a outgoing, social child to more withdrawn and fearful behavior. Jihan's daily behavior did not seem to change, however, the torturing of his sister and the killing of his mother were a result of the kidnapping. Growing up, Jihan would deny killing his mother on purpose to everyone but Morrigan. He would also deny putting Morrigan through any more torment than was normal for siblings. Something one must remember about Jihan is that he has the uncanny ability to speak in such a way that makes people believe or want to believe what he is saying. He is one of those frustrating people that, when found with his hand in the cookie jar, he could convince most people that he was not really trying to get a cookie.
Jihan became aware of being one of Erin's Alters when he was in prison serving time for the murder of MacKenzie. Shortly after this, he escaped prison and began living in an apartment somewhere in the USA; he has never disclosed its exact location. Speaking with him after his escape I found out his reasons behind all of his actions.
According to Jihan, he tormented his twin in order that she learn not to trust anyone. He figured that the only way for Morrigan to succeed in the world is if she only trusted herself and her own abilities. Thus, he caused everyone to turn against his sister so they would not trust her, in order to cause Morrigan to not be able to trust them. This plan worked flawlessly until he was caught by MacKenzie. Because MacKenzie knew the truth, Morrigan was able to put her trust and rely on him. This threatened to compromise Jihan's plan, so he got rid of MacKenzie. Now, Jihan insists that the reason for MacKenzie's murder was because MacKenzie was physically and sexually abusing Morrigan. How true this is, I do not know as Morrigan will not talk much about MacKenzie with me.
As for the death of their mother, Jihan has admitted that it was intentional and that it was at the instruction of his father. Jihan claims that he daily regrets killing their mother; I have no reason to disbelieve him on this particular point.
The purpose of Jihan as Erin's Alter is, supposedly, to allow Erin to trust people. The idea is that, if Jihan can instill distrust for everyone within Morrigan, then all of Erin's distrust will be in Morrigan, which should allow her to trust anyone and everyone. Regarding this too I have no reason to disbelieve Jihan's word. It certainly explains why my intense amount of trust--to the point of naivety--has gotten me into trouble as well as allowed me to make friends of people of many backgrounds.
I used to be terrified of Jihan; however, this was before I heard his side of the twin's story. Granted, I don't completely trust him, but I am able to take him at his word because of a deal that we have made. If I gave up referring to him as "The Murderer" or "The Liar" and gave him a chance, then Jihan would tell me the truth about himself and his story. However, this does not mean that he doesn't lie when it comes to accusing me of various things, which he does often enough to be a bit problematic. This also does not prevent him from striking me with his cat-o-nine-tails when I am in the Black Room after he has verbally attacked.
Jihan, since telling his side of the story, is typically quiet and does not comment on my daily life. I usually only see him when I am mentally freaking out due to a trigger or due to a different personality instigating something. He almost always is in the Black Room when Guilt, his lover, is causing a ruckus in the Black Room.
I have only a few sketches of Jihan which have stayed in my sketchbook. This blog is the first place I have ever posted images of him. This is mostly because I do not enjoy drawing him.
The markings which Morrigan and Jihan share are the Star of David bellybutton marking and the Blood Cross face marking. Morrigan's hand markings are natural, but Jihan used to dye the fur on his hands opposite of Morrigan's markings in order to mock her. Since realizing that he is Erin's Alter, he has ceased dying his hands; they are naturally blue-grey in color. The majority of Morrigan's fur is red-grey, while Jihan's is blue-grey. They are intentionally opposites; two sides of the same coin.
Back when I believed that some of the other Alters were just characters I created, I thought that Jihan symbolically represented who I would have been if I didn't care about the beliefs, morals, and values that I grew up with, namely that of Christianity. While this is not a bad interpretation of what Jihan could represent, I have come to find that he is so much more, and I learn more every day.