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!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The Storm (Story) -- Tommi
One by one, the leaves fall from the tree branches and crinkle underfoot as I walk toward the bluff. Looking to the sky, I see the storm coming, the violent Autumn storm. It will be here within hours, yet I do not move to prepare my home. This storm is well-known for it's destructive power, yet I cannot convince myself to make things ready. It is as though the darkening clouds and raging winds have taken me captive and movement is utterly forbidden.
A cry rises up from my home far behind me. It is a frightened child, my child, and she too senses the coming storm. It has been just her and I for so long now. I long for contact with others, preferably older and maybe wiser than I. But in this deserted place, it is only our two souls against this storm. My child's cry rises again releasing me from captivity.
The wind hurls itself at my body, raging against my freedom. I hurry inside to secure the windows and doors. My child looks mournfully up at me as to say, "I thought you had left me as the others have." once again I am a captive, but now it is to her soundless words. I pick her up to hold her fragile body against my own tryig not to make any promises; for they are trecherous and unreliable.
We do not know why the others in our family left us so long ago. They left behind their memories and fear, inadvertently demanding us to take their places; remembering and fearing in their stead. In this way, the two of us have become burdened, making it even harder to stay in this lonesome home as we ought. What memories and fears have they left behind? We do not understand them, otherwise we would know why they left. But this storm grows closer, and the wind batters at this home seeking it's inhabitants. We can feel it coming... It is upon us.