The War For Your Life -- Yomi (Warning: Very High Word Count)

It's amazing how much can happen when you're really just minding your own business; the following is an example of this concept.

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.

2:00am
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.

3:00am
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.

6:00am
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.

7:00am
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.

1:00pm-ish
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.

About Myself -- Guilt

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.

About the Anguish -- Yomi

Some people say that we never stop loving our first love, and, to a certain extent, I think it's true. That person holds a special role because they were the one who taught us how to love another, whether they are conscious of the lessoning or not.

But what happens when your first love never returned the sentiment? What kind of grief tears and rends' the lover's heart? This rending I know all too well.

On to of that rending grief, imagine having kept the love--such an enormous expenditure of the heart--secret for years? Imagine the grief then. This too I know too well.

For the sake of conversation, I shall call him "John," which is not his real name, not that it really matters much. This John, I met him nearly ten years ago, which could even be eleven years at this point; I fell in love with him almost immediately, though it took me at least four years to understand that. I was only twelve at the time, so I suppose my confusion was understandable.

After the realization that I did, in fact, love John, I cannot begin to describe the grief it brought me. I knew from the beginning that it would never go anywhere with John and I. I was the girl next door, the best friend who happened to be a girl, the person with whom he could talk about anything. I adored the friendship we had made and I was loathe to change the status quo. Our friendship was easy, simple and I didn't dare complicate it with something I so firmly believed would not work. So I stayed silent for three years after the discovery.

It was painful, beyond painful. It was agony. Love is not something to be locked away, but I did so everyday, only unchaining it at night to ravage my heart and soul. I still bear the scars.

When I could take it no longer, I decided to breach the subject with John... It took me a year, but I finally did it, though it caused even more anguish since he did not return my feelings. More grief followed, as did awkward meetings after our discussion, but we both pushed through it.

Four months later, all the grief from seven long, horrible years of hidden, secretive love, it was all turned off as a light blinks out with the flick of a switch.

I was grateful; I thought it was an answered prayer from God; an answer that lasted two and a half years.

Then I met the Anguish with its overwhelming sorrow and grief that is a shocking blow. My first meeting with the Anguish all I could manage to do was cry with heaving sobs, not understanding what was happening. Since then, I have gained insight as to what the Anguish is exactly; Morrigan has been quite helpful here.

When I would communicate with it in order to figure out what memories and emotions created it, the Anguish would only reply with mild things: homesickness for Okinawa, losing friends due to moving, or my dad suddenly not spending time with me... Not even all these things together accounted for the sheer enormousness that is Anguish. It was Morrigan who finally figured it out.

I woke up one morning to find a note from Morrigan that read: You idiot! The Anguish holds onto your grief for John that you never processed properly. Have fun with that.

And this is where the dots connected: the prolonged grief, its sudden disappearance, Anguish's massiveness... It all makes sense...

Now I must wrestle with this grief a second time. I can only hope my present situation is better so it does not throw me into another downward suicidal spiral as it did the first time around.

Here's to second chances.

A Day in the Life -- Morrigan

We had gotten in a fight last night, Yomi and I. Yomi thought it would be a good idea for me to be in control for a day to see what it was like and to know [how] her schedule worked. "Better now when we are in control of the situation rather than wait until we have no choice." That was her idea. I wasn't so sure about this. Sure, I had made mention of possibly talking to Roberta, but I didn't think Yomi would actually let me do it.

I apparently lost the fight since I was the one to wake up this morning. Yomi has been absent for the most part, unless I needed her knowledge about people and places.

Attending Physics class reminded me of my GED classes... Highly unpleasant with a condescending teacher.

Yomi's art class... She had told me that the prof knew about us and would allow us to use the studio as a safe place, but I didn't believe. I was told they were still critiquing midterms and I wouldn't have to participate. They were all working on drawings when I walked in. When I spoke with Yomi's teacher, he seemed to understand that I wasn't Yomi and he allowed me to stay even though I wasn't working; I didn't want to have to interact with Yomi's family any more than I had to. So I stayed and took a nap, leaving when people were putting away their things. The professor said to tell Yomi "hi".

Then I drove back to Yomi's house, fulling expecting and hoping for the place to be empty. No such luck, but Yomi is a simple person to impersonate... It was like I have done this many times before.

Counseling was much different than I am used to. My old counselor, Kimberly, allowed me to discuss whatever I wanted really. However, Roberta led the conversation and asked poignant questions; I see why Yomi likes her.

And now I write, trying to appear to those in the house like I am Yomi, a boring task.

--------------------

A note from Yomi:

Morrigan and I have discussed what she meant by "It was like I have done this many times before." It seems that she can vaguely remember coming out in my stead and acting like me before this time. This is not unusual from what I've been told of MPD cases, rather, it seems to be expected.

About Marie-Shiloh -- Yomi

Of all the alters, Marie-Shiloh is perhaps the one I know the least about. Whenever I have tried to ask questions, they have always been avoided, deflected, or ignored. In spite of that, I do know some interesting things.

I first noticed Marie-Shiloh's presence back in middle school when my family first moved to Illinois; this would be about ten years ago now. She really just "lurked" at the back of my mind until the summer of my second year of college. What I mean by "lurking" is that I could sense a presence, not my own, with me in my own mind. The main reason why this did not terrify me, I believe, is that my friends and I would draw characters from our imaginations constantly. I thought that this "lurker" was merely a character that was reluctant to come forward and introduce herself. I thought that my friends felt this lurking sensation when they were creating characters; I thought it was my imagination working and creating.

Over that past two years, I have learned some very important things about Marie-Shiloh. First, Marie-Shiloh is actually two alters. I'm not sure when it happened, but Shiloh split off from Marie to be the protector. Yes, this does in fact mean that Marie has MPD as well, which is just highly interesting and, from what I've understood, is rather unusual. Second, until very recently, Shiloh would be in control about 95% of the time; the only times I saw Marie were when she was freaking out about one thing or another, usually it was because she thought someone was chasing her. Since I asked Marie-Shiloh if she wanted to stay in the Room of Requirement, Marie has been in control much more often; in fact, whenever I see her, it is usually Marie and not Shiloh in control. This is helpful because I do not know much about Marie's personal history.

The little I do know is that Shiloh helped her escape from a mental institution. When asked about what happened, Shiloh replies with "she had a bad experience," which isn't helpful at all. When I spoke to Marie the first time, she was super paranoid and was convinced that someone was drugging her and, while she was unconscious, moving her to different locations. When I finally talked to Shiloh, I immediately understood what was going on, however, Shiloh did not wish Marie to know about his existence. Marie, as far as I know, still knows nothing about Shiloh. As for Shiloh's personality, he's a rather 2-dimensional person; he exists to protect Marie from anything that might harm her, that's as far as it goes.

Within the past week and a half, I made a new discovery. I was cleaning out my room in my parent's house and I found some old t-shirts from when my family lived on Okinawa, Japan. Wonderfully enough, some of the shirts still fit since they swamped me back then. One of the shirts was from a program called Young Marines, which is a Marine version of ROTC but you can be in it from a much younger age. I made a comment to my mom about finding it, and Marie answered saying that she had been in Young Marines when she was younger too. This was a shock because Marie doesn't usually initiate conversation and this was my first time realizing that my alters and I had the same memories about different things. After discussing it with Marie, our memories about Young Marines were almost identical, which means that Marie was definitely around for Okinawa. Nickie's current theory about that is that Marie was the personality in control when my family lived on Okinawa. The switch from her to me would have theoretically happened sometime between Okinawa and Illinois... The theory isn't solid, but it makes a bit of sense.

I have maybe two drawings of Marie-Shiloh; one from middle school, and one from summer 2009. I am not very sure what I have done with either drawing, which is rather frustrating. She is also beginning to change her appearance as I get to know her; this is a phenomenon I have seen with Morrigan as well. The more I get to know Marie, the more human she becomes.

Originally, Marie was a feline Anthro with dark purple and bright orange stripe markings. I stopped drawing her, because a good friend of mine told me the design was ugly, so I put it down only to pick it back up almost ten years later. As Marie has become more human, I noticed that she has an Asian look to her, but she would not be full Asian. She has straight black hair a few inches past her shoulders, almond shaped eyes, and dark-ish skin. I say that she is not full Asian because her face structure is not quite right.

This is really all I know about Marie-Shiloh. I'll post some pictures when I find them.