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!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
When I asked the little girl who she was, she told me that she was not supposed to tell me. It had the feel of "stranger danger" and it made me smile. I have given her the nickname "Honey."
During the 30min drive to the church, we had a conversation about everything from her favorite color (yellow) to where she is (she had no idea). She identified at least three other kids, besides herself, who all used to live in Sierra's house. They knew Morrigan and were given a lot of rules by Sierra as to what they could and could not talk about to whom. They were specifically instructed to not talk to me or anyone else who was not from Alter.
The two others that are with Honey are Bloomer and Rachel. The three of them go everywhere together as a unit and Morrigan and I have been referring to them as the Orphans. Honey is human, seems to be about 2 or 3 years old and is very chatty despite Bloomer's attempts to keep her quiet. Bloomer is a 9 year old Cat-boy (a human with cat ears and tail) and he tries very hard to follow the rules Sierra gave him. Rachel is also human but seems to be too young to even talk.
While trying to understand where they were located, Honey said that they were moved to a black, wall-less place recently. This sounds like the Black Room to me, and the timing of the move would be shortly after Morrigan cornered and questioned Sierra about what her dealings with the "Government" were about. Morrigan said that all Sierra would say is that she "cannot talk about what the Government has done nor about the secrets it keeps." Morrigan thinks that Sierra is the Secret Keeper... Which kind of makes sense. This makes me nervous because I wonder what all has happened that I do not know about...
Morrigan has also done some more poking around and has discovered that Sierra's house has been completely emptied, including Morrigan's room (she is not thrilled about this). So once again, Sierra is MIA. The current assumption is that Sierra has moved in order to better protect the secrets that are her responsibility.
A day or so ago, Tommy started talking to Morrigan and then to me. He is about 13 years old and is a Beagle Anthro. Tommy is very sarcastic and cynical. He has been interesting to get to know.
Currently, things on the inside have calmed down and it is very quiet. I am not sure if this is comforting or disconcerting... But I guess I should start getting used to this cycle of louds and quiets.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Grief does funny things to you. It pierces. It cripples. It tears. It lames. I suppose it doesn't really matter what action it takes... It only brings with it the fresh pain.
Seven months ago I was told my reality did not exist outside Erin's mind. A few months ago, I finally accepted that fact. The world of Alter itself I could live without. Granted, I loved Chicago... but I could do without the uncertainty of walking down the street. Some of the other "characters," like Honda or Eisel, I could do without. I miss Honda sometimes, she was the closest thing to an aunt I had, but really it doesn't bother me that she's gone. I can handle my whole world crashing down, literally... but then I remember him...
I think of his name and my throat closes up. I remember some of his mannerisms or accent and tears prick my eyes.
"Hey Morri, do you smell that?"
"Morri, was that a pothole? I swear there was cement there yesterday!"
"Can you describe that to me? I want to see with your eyes."
"Morri! Take off your shoes right here. This spot of grass is amazing."
He was so child-like, so full of wonder. He had never seen the United States with his own eyes, but he loved to describe what he thought it looked like. He would try to explain skyscrapers in the words of someone who had only seen a jungle. He was so amazing... and I treated him with such disdain for so long.
I traded his love for my indifference and hard-heartedness. No, I didn't act that was all the time; he wore down my hard heart after a while. But I never got the chance to tell him that I loved him in return. Sometimes I like to pretend like he knew but he just didn't tell me. But that thought would be smashed when I happened to catch a glimpse of an expression when he thought no one could see him... It was so melancholic... So pained... I knew that look. I knew what it meant... And I wish I had had the time to take it all away.
Yet at the same time, I am so glad I never got to tell him. How much worse would it have been if I had opened my heart to a mere figment of someone else's imagination? I had opened my heart up in secret, how much more damage would have been done if the love was not locked away? He was so open about how he felt. He would tell me he loved me. He told me he was waiting for me, but I made him wait too long.
He is gone now. I am left only with the pain in my heart and the scar that proves he once existed.
Friday, April 15, 2011
I gave Morgan the packet I prepared about all of us and the different rooms and the pictures I had drawn of Guilt, Morrigan, and Little Erin. She said it was very, very helpful because now she can look over it without me right there and she know more of what's going on.
Her conclusion was that, while I had some symptoms of bipolar (6month cycles of high and low energy), DID does make the most sense. This isn't surprising to me, honestly, but it's good to hear that Roberta and I have been on the right track.
I've also been having to think about getting a new counselor that is closer to where I live... While it's irritating to start over with someone new, it is also good to have someone nearby for when stuff like this past Thursday/Friday happens. A closer counselor could have stopped by if they felt they needed to or whatever.
Morgan and I had briefly discussed the use of medication to make the voices of my alters go away... Which I decided long ago that if this was, in fact, DID, then I didn't want to use medication if I didn't have to. The idea of suppressing the voices of different parts of myself is nearly appalling. However, I was given a prescription for emergency use for when I get overwhelmed by what's going on in my mind. This way I can take that, calm down a bit, and wait to get into the clinic instead of going into the ER. It saves me a lot of money in the long (and short) run.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
If you could contact me somehow, whether through email or Facebook or even face to face, and let me know what you all consider to be the helpful and important things to know, I would greatly appreciate it.
David, I have gotten your emails, and I am in the process of figuring out some of the points you brought up. Thank you for your input; I do appreciate it a lot.
If any of you could do me this grand favor, I would be so thankful.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
I was attempting to go to sleep, and I was succeeding rather well, when I heard a nondescript voice say to me, "They are coming for you."
Now, I thought it was a figment of my imagination, so I didn't give it much thought. However, when Jihan, who I hadn't heard from in a few months at least, came to me and wanted to know if I heard the voice too, I thought that maybe it was something a bit more. After speaking with Morrigan and Guilt about it, they had heard the voice too, though to them it had said "They are coming for Yomi."
That's when I really hoped it was my own or our collective imagination and decided to not think much of it... But I told Nickie about it and she convinced me to at least call Roberta about it and let her decide what to do.
Her instructions were to keep a look out for "They" and to call her back if I hear from it again. Roberta believed that it may be the dangerous alter that apparently all people with MPD have.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
This evening, I was sitting on the couch in the living room, trying to draw and not succeeding at all when I started to get a restless itch that I've come to associate with Guilt wanting to go out. However, I have also figured out that if I do something fun and social it usually goes away without me having to deal with Guilt. So, I began asking around, seeing who was available to do something this weekend.
I had just set up a time to do something with a friend of mine, when I got that old feeling of needing to run away. I am not a fan of this feeling at all, especially since I am happy enough with the life I have at the moment. So I decided to write about the feeling to get it out of my system; it's something that usually works.
While I was writing, again I heard that nondescript voice. This time it said, "They have come for you," and then it proceeded to describe with just enough detail about how it wanted to hurt me and others around me, which would hurt me as well.
This voice terrified me, not because of the threats that it was making, but because I was convinced that it could follow through. So I called Roberta. By time she picked up the phone, I was curled up in/near my closet in near hysteria.
Since the voice was threatening to hurt me and since I believed it could do it, Roberta recommended that I be admitted into a hospital. Roberta spoke and explained things to my mom, who then took me to the hospital. At this point, I was so scared that I was balling and visibly shaking.
Friday, April 8, 2001
11:00pm-12:00am -- Arrived at the hospital and was put in a room. It was routine procedure for a while; they checked my vitals and stuff. Though they either had a security guard or a sitter with me at all times since I was there for psychological reasons.
This entire time the voice doesn't talk all that much; it really didn't have to. I knew it was there still, I could feel it and I knew what its intentions were, it didn't have to keep talking for me to still be terrified of it.
I was admitted into the hospital for the night at least and my mom went home to get some rest (we lived about 5-10min from the hospital).
Sometime after my mom left, They got control of my right hand and squeezed my upper left arm just hard enough to make it hurt but not leave a bruise. At the same time it made some comment about how it could do more than that if it wanted to. A little while later They closed up my throat so I couldn't breath for a few moments. And again, it got control of my hand in order to stroke my cheek, which was highly creepy, but it was still giving the message of "See what I can do? I can do more if I wanted to." It was frightening.
I managed to fall asleep, but only after a prayer and a pretty significant revelation.
At 2am, I was exhausted and I could barely stay awake, however I was still terrified that something would happen when I was sleeping. So, I started praying, asking God to help me because I was way in over my head and to protect me in my sleep... Then I realized... My need had already been met. God had already gotten me to the hospital where someone was watching me every moment to make sure I didn't get hurt no matter what. He took care of me before I realized my own need. So I thanked Him and fell asleep easily knowing that He was taking care of me.
I woke up naturally. I was frightened, but relatively calm. The voice was back with a vengeance. Around this time, the staff had prepared a different room for me, so I changed rooms. I remember being happy because I was moved into room 13, which is a good number for me. Then I fell asleep again.
I really don't know why I woke up this time, but my sitter was still outside my room. She was a really nice girl and I talked with her off and on throughout this whole shebang. The girl reminded me of someone, but I couldn't remember who and it really bothered me. At this point, she told me that her shift was over around 7:00 and I remember hoping that the new sitter wouldn't be a guy because I didn't know if I could handle that.
When the sitter's shift was over, there was not another one to take her place, so the hospital had security watch over me. Under normal circumstances this would have been fine, not a big deal. However, this was not a normal circumstance.
Marie, who had already been very uneasy because we were in a hospital, happened to see that there were two men who were dressed in police-like uniforms completely freaked out and accidentally overpowered me. She found herself in control of a body that didn't look like her own and she was in a place that she did not remember going to on her own. This is a very similar situation to how I met Marie in the first place.
From here, I really only know what Morrigan has shared with me and I am very uncertain as to the timing of things. I was sequestered off in a "corner" trapped by "They," who threatened to hurt my alters if I even tried to talk to them.
Marie curled up in a tight little ball, clutching at the pillow I had brought with me until my mom showed up. As soon as my mom walked in the door, Marie said, "My name is Marie Jessica Laysfield. I think you have the wrong person. I swear I didn't do anything wrong."
To my mom's credit, she did not freak out (externally), though she did tell Marie that "Marie" was not her real name and then she sat down and held Marie as she cried.
At some point in time, the hospital's counselor showed up and began asking Marie questions which ranged from the standard name/birth date/social security number to what was going on. Thankfully, Morrigan knew most of the information and was helping Marie answer. I am not sure what all the talked about, but I do know that my mom was in the room for most of it... which makes me a bit nervous, honestly.
Eventually, it got to the point where the counselor needed me to sign some release of information papers. Apparently, when dealing with a person with MPD, only the signature of the main/dominant personality is considered to be legally legitimate. I find this to be incredibly intriguing and relieving. Because of this, Marie asked Morrigan to find me, as she had been calling for me and I was not answering; I could hear her, but I did not want to answer for fear that They would harm her.
This is when Morrigan got really pissed off with They and shouted at it, "If you even dare harm a hair on Yomi's head, so help me God..." She didn't finish her statement; she didn't have to. They backed off enough for me to slip past it into the Black Room. Once there, Morrigan and I helped Marie maneuver the white door, which she had never done before, and I was in control again.
The counselor and I talked for a little bit, I signed the papers, and they got me ready to discharge.
When the on-duty doctor came in to talk to me, the way he had to summarize the situation because he had come on shift right as I was being discharged. He said, "So a voice is saying it wants to hurt and kill you. You don't want to hurt yourself and it is not telling you to hurt yourself. The voice itself wants to hurt you." As I agreed that this was the situation, a small part of me said, "Huh, that sounds like a demon..." I dismissed it at the time because I was doing stuff to leave the hospital.
My mom drove me the less than five minutes it takes to get from the hospital to the house; I was so tired. I estimated that I got about 3 or 4 hours of sleep.
Per her request, I called Roberta. We talked for a bit and she asked me if I thought that They could be a demon. I told her that the thought had occurred to me. Roberta decided that we needed to determine if They was an alter or a demon.
Me:(to They) Where are you?
They: I'm everywhere.
Me: No, seriously, you can't be everywhere. Where are you?
They: I'm in the Pit; I'm in the Tombs. I'm in the Hallway; I'm in the Rooms.
(I got the tiniest kick out of it rhyming. I still think it was clever.)
Me: That's creepy. Where are you?
They: I'm right here.
Me: So, why exactly do you want to hurt me?
They: Because I hate you.
Me: Great, why do you hate me? Or what is it about me that you hate?
They: I hate you. I deplore you. I loathe you. It is in my nature to hate you. All of you. I hate you because you are you and I am me.
Me: Do you hate Yomi or the core of Erin?
They: I hate all of you, the core, the soul.
This is when Roberta determined that it was, in fact, a demon and not an alter. Her explanation was that a demon would hate the core or soul of a person without need for a reason. Whereas an alter would hate the person or part of a person but with a specific reason(s) for doing so. For example: I hate you because you are such-and-such or you have done such-and-such.
Before getting rid of it, I asked Morrigan's help. She said, "Of course. I am no longer just a survivor; I am Erin's Warrior. Let's do this." Roberta and I then proceeded to pray and say the names of Jesus Christ and God while Morrigan stood guard and made sure it didn't run away to a different part of my mind. They got super pissed. To cut a long story short, They eventually left and I had a sense of peace and calm.
Then I called the psychiatrist shortly after this. I have an appointment sometime Friday; I have to come in at 8:30am and hang around until they can fit me in. Roberta told me to make a folder of all the important stuff that's gone on for the past 9 months so the psychiatrist can look at it. I did that for Roberta when I showed up for my first appointment; she said it was one of the most helpful things I did.
Then I slept... Well tried to sleep because my mom kept waking me up reminding me to do the dishes. After I did the dishes, I couldn't fall asleep until about 10pm.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The rest of my weekend and the beginning of this week has been very calm and relaxing. My family has been giving me space, which I appreciate. My oldest sister has made it abundantly clear that I am welcome at her apartment whenever I want and I can talk to her about anything. I asked her about this and she meant anything including my alters. They are even welcome at her apartment. Her reasoning is that she loves me and wants to be part of my life, and they are a big part of my life now, so she wants to hear about them too. I love her a lot.
Hopefully that'll be the most exciting thing to happen for a while at least. I'm still recovering from the stress and lack of sleep, but I'll get there. I always do.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
To the above picture, just add freckles and it's an approximate idea of what I truly look like. I am pale, mildly exotic. I am confident, proud, bold. I am not an easy catch; I do not play hard to get because I truly am hard to get. Yomi says I'm promiscuous, and I supposed, compared to her monogamous relationship and her sheltered ideals, I am. I do not do one night stands; I do prefer open relationships. I have a needs, I cannot be expected to be satisfied with just one person. If this makes me promiscuous, then so be it.
Yomi has been writing about our histories, our personal back-stories. Mine is simple enough, or the bits of my story I actually tell is simple enough.
I grew up in one of the southern states; it doesn't truly matter which one. I left "home" as soon as I could, which was when I was about 16 years old. I managed to live by finding men or women who wanted me around, and, when they no longer wanted me, I would find another. This lasted until I met Brian; he was a computer hacker in the truest sense of the word. It was Brian who gave me my "hacker" name: Guilt. His relationship with me apparently caused him much shame. But he did teach me just enough about hacking for me to no longer directly rely on others for my livelihood. After that, I would steal identities, using rich people's unused wealth. I was good at it and I did it for years without being caught.
I made my way to Chicago, eventually, because bigger cities were easier to find "benefactors." This is where I met Sierra for the first time. She was the only other vibrantly alive person I had ever met; everyone else had a very vague feel about them, as though they were only half persons. But Sierra was different, she was substantial and real, just as I was. I suddenly understood why the half-people were drawn to my aliveness because I was drawn to Sierra for that very reason.
Sierra had a flickering appearance as though she were many people all at once. I later found out it was because she could change her appearance at will. She approached me and began to ask a series of questions that I now understand to be things that all we alters have in common. She asked questions such as "Does this reality seem real to you?" "Have you ever had gaps in your memories?" "Do you remember ever trying to be someone else for different periods of time?" "Do you feel whole?" At first I was too astounded to find another real person that I did not register her questions. But as I thought about them, I realized that this reality never seemed to be truly real, I do have large gaps in my memories which usually coincide with memories of being someone else, and I always felt like I was searching for my larger context. I swear, I felt like I was in the movie "The Matrix."
Then Sierra Lime began to explain what she herself had only recently come to find... We are parts of a larger whole. We have Multiple Personality Disorder and we are not the original personalities...
That sincerely pissed me off. What does this mean? Does this make me less real? Does this mean that I matter less? What about my memories, are they real? I refused to believe this strangely alive person, and I buried the memory of our meeting for some time.
But it ate at me. What if she's right? What if there are others like me? What if this vague reality isn't the truest reality? Hell, if that was the case, I'd want to live where I knew everyone was alive, real. It was when I began to accept Sierra's findings that I began to remember other things, the things I had been keeping a secret, even from myself, my whole life...
Yes, there was the abuse from my own past, but there was also abuse to a little child that wasn't me. Abuse done by the child to another. Abuse from the child's playground friends. Vague memories about a man named Jeremy with whom I know I had some role in screwing over the grown-up child who wasn't me. And with all these memories, guilt pervaded everything. Any time I brushed on a memory, shame and guilt and mortification would take hold of me. This pissed me off because they were not my memories and I wanted nothing to do with the person who gave them to me.
So I introduced myself to the grown-up child who wasn't me, whose name is Yomi. I blamed her for the shame that I felt; I hated her for it. I still hate her for it. I lashed out at her, at first, with name calling and guilt-tripping. At the beginning, she fell for my words and it made me happy, glad that she finally felt as rotten and guilt-driven as I did. I made her despise me, and I felt I deserved it.
Since introducing myself to Yomi I have been working to rid myself of all her memories because, frankly, I hate "taking care of them" for her. It's annoying, painful, and not my responsibility. I have had to make and follow through on threats, assign "homework", and anything else in my power to make her take on her own responsibility.
Having taken care of most of the memories and having realized that she's working on other seemingly important things right now, I've decided my goal is to just have fun in this new reality that is so very substantial and not vague. The sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feel of this place is so very intense compared to the flimsy reality that is Alter. Yomi and Nickie went to a bar a few weeks ago and Yomi let me dance... though I do not think she knew it was me dancing at the time. For now, Yomi's life is so boring that I have been trying to convince her to spice it up a bit. She has been ignoring me, so it may be high time to go onto more drastic measures.
Guilt signing out.